A Time for Heroes
by Faevri
Summary: When the gods left the world to burn in flames of war, four great sages rose to the call when heroes were needed. They sealed away the source of magic and restored order and peace on Weyard. But now the seals have been broken and the world is again threatened with destruction. Heroes are needed once more, but who will answer the call? { GS/tLA, character focused retelling }
1. Prologue – Rise of the Ancients

**I** am Karst, Guardian of the Northern Light.

When the world was young, the gods opened rifts in the earth and revealed to us four pillars of divine light—pure elemental energy that bestowed us with the power of magic.

The gods smiled upon us, for we were their favourites. They gifted to us great knowledge and wondrous powers. They taught us to harness the energies of the world and made us the first sorcerers. With our magics we could create and conjure. We could change and restore life. We tamed nature and changed the world as we built our first settlements. With strength, with valour, wisdom and faith, we prospered and founded the great kingdoms of Weyard.

In the city of Loho we built a grand temple to the gods. Here, the gods answered our prayers directly and listened to our plights with interest.

The Golden City of Loho was the pinnacle of civilization. It was our pride and testament of greatness. Legends of its immense beauty are still told today. Its towers and minarets shone like gold in the sunlight and people and magical creatures circled the skies on wings and enchantments.

In here, we researched magic and recorded history. From here, we helped the lesser races to their feet. We taught them how to refine their primitive magic and how to honour the gods. We helped them build their first settlements and introduced them to our technology. And to us, they looked for guidance and inspiration.

They called us the Ancients.

* * *

I am Karst, Guardian of the Northern Light. The blood of the Ancients flows in my veins.

Once, my people guided the lesser races to glory. Now, we're a mere shadow of what we used to be.

Humans were once meek, relying on us for survival like the other lesser races. But they rose to power with their newfound magic. Their will and resilience allowed them to easily learn and adapt magic. As time went on, they learned to stand on their own and no longer needed our help. As time went on, they outnumbered and started overpowering the other lesser races.

Defeated tribes came to our doors and pleaded for help, speaking of the humans' crime against their people. But in our arrogance, we didn't intervene. We kept to ourselves in our fortified cities while the rest of the world stood in flames. The wars of the lesser races did not concern us. And in indignation, the gods abandoned us when we needed them the most.

The humans enslaved a majority of the world, building sprawling empires on the ruins of conquered cities and on the ashes of the dead. But their greed and thirst for power was insatiable and finally, the warlords turned on each other for absolute dominion of the world.

When we finally rose to the call to arms, it was too late. The human sorcerers twisted our magic and inventions, and turned them into weapons of mass destruction. That was the beginning of the bloody Alchemy Wars and the Age of Chaos.

No nation was safe—nothing sacred. Revered as we were in the beginning of time, we were now nothing more than another challenge to overcome. The humans besieged our cities. We fought bravely, but we were vastly outnumbered. All our enemies could tap from the endless source of magic and they overpowered our defences.

We prayed to the gods for salvation, but they no longer answered.

We were slaughtered in great numbers, and our knowledge was lost in the smouldering ruins. One by one, our cities fell. Soon, the armies of men were at the gates of the Golden City itself. On the brink of its destruction, the last king of the Ancients and his guard transformed into dragons and fought the enemies in a last stand. His friend, the High Chancellor, took it upon himself to save the remnant of our civilization. He wrapped himself in the banners of our broken nations, and with a blazing sword in hand he led the survivor to the docks and escaped with our last ship.

His name was Prox, and he would be remembered as one of the Four Saints.

Guided by the red pillar of divine light, Prox sailed across the Frozen Sea and into the far north. Here our people found new land. A land of barren tundra—but a refuge from unending war nonetheless.

Prox and his allies, the Ancient Heroes, ventured further into the north to seek the source of magic itself. There, he performed a ritual and extinguished the light, while the sages Imil, Lalivero, and Contigo sealed off the remaining rifts. The divine lights, they all vanished from the sky that fateful night. The source of magic was sealed away for good, that fateful night.

* * *

I am Karst, Guardian of the Northern Light. The blood of the Ancients Heroes flows in my veins.

We don't know what powerful rituals the Saints performed to seal the rifts, but the entire world felt the source of magic being cut off. We no longer had limitless power, and our magic was instead drawn from our own life energies instead of the Source. It is said that entire armies decimated themselves from instant aftershock on their own. Only the Ancient Heroes, who had absorbed energy from the rifts before the sealing, were powerful enough to fight the remaining warlords and end the wars. Many had hoped they would usher in a new era of peace and prosperity, but they vanished without a trace at the end of the Age of Chaos.

Some believe they died in the last battle, defending the construction of the Elemental Lighthouses. Others say they retreated from the world and lived out their lives as ordinary people.

My people believe they joined the gods, leaving the world behind for us to protect. Legends say that when evil threatens Weyard again, they will return and aid us in battle.

To the outside world, the Elemental Lighthouses were monuments to remind us of what we'd lost—they were erected on locations were the divine lights used to be. But _we_ know the towers are the final seals preventing humanity from ever touching the Source again. The seal had to be protected for all eternity, and Saint Prox chose us to guard the Northern Light. And in our vigil, we lost contact with the rest of the world.

Those civilizations that survived the Age of Chaos fell into decline without magic. My people declined too, as our culture used to be heavily reliant on our abilities to command nature to do our bidding. But under the guidance of Saint Prox, we adapted to our new life.

Once, we were scholars and mystics. Now we are hunters and warriors. Tempered by the cold, we have become masters of the north. With strength, valour, wisdom and faith, we have survived to this very day.

We no longer have a golden city. We have lost our great monuments and most of our knowledge of magic and technology had been buried with the ruins of Loho. We had been broken, but we did not give in to despair. Even though our connection to the source of magic—to Alchemy—had been severed, we retained the ability of wielding the Elements. Even today we are born with the gift of magic. Our magic—Psynergy—is our parting gift from the Saints. Unlike the gods, the Saints still watch over the world and guide us in our lives with their teachings.

* * *

I am Karst, Guardian of the Northern Light. Like my mother before me, I am a huntress by nature. The day I turned eight, I lifted a harpoon for the first time and took part in the whale hunts. Three years later, I made myself worthy to be named a member of the Order of Prox.

The order protects the people and honours the Saints. I was the youngest Guardian in a hundred years—the High Priest made an exception for me when I demonstrated my bravery and risked my life to save a friend from a wild bear. In the ceremony, when I was asked what facial markings I wanted to represent my virtues, I chose the Mark of Strength like my late mother. One day, I will be a revered warrior and leader like my mother was. One day, I too will be Captain of the Guardians of Prox.

My father was a healer and scholar, a seeker of knowledge. My elder sister, Menardi, proudly followed his footsteps, seeking truth above all. Her facial markings are those of Valour, as she believed it was our sense of honour that made us stand out from the lesser races.

I was eleven years old when Mother and Father left us behind. With a band of explorers, they left the city and sailed to the south in search for an Angaran city named "The Vale". It was the first time my people sought contact with the outside world after centuries of isolation. I didn't know the reason of my parents' leave, but they never returned. Menardi, my beloved sister, raised me since.

She was still a dutiful priestess when our parents left. Their disappearance changed her forever. Instead of becoming a priestess, she pursued a career as a Guardian. My sister excelled in everything she does, so she passed the entrance exams with flying colours and became a notable member of the Order of Prox quickly.

I have always admired my sister. Although I always thought she was better fit to heal the injured than leading patrol on the streets, I stood by her in every decision. Yet, I had sensed something wrong about her ever since she picked up a spear. She used to be content living a humble life—that was why she wanted to become a priestess to begin with, but now she seized every opportunity for promotion. Within three years she rose to the highest rank, becoming the elected leader of the city's fighting force; the position that took my mother two decades to reach.

But Captain Menardi wasn't happy. She laughed and drank with her friends and subordinates the evening she accepted her position, but I saw her joy was fake. She assured me she wanted to restore the family honour, but I sensed she was after something more.

I was right.

As Captain of the Guardians, the spell of unlocking the gate to the Mars Lighthouse was passed to Menardi. And one night, she used it to enter the ancient structure with the scholar Rhen.

When she returned that night, her face was dark, and she refused to speak to me. She didn't show up on duty either, locking herself up in her study for days—researching, as she claimed. When she finally let herself out, she went to the town hall to speak with the chief and the council. Two days later she left the city without a word.

The Order of Prox later told me she'd been given permission to leave the city to uncover our parents' fates. I fooled myself it was that simple, but deep down I knew there was more to it. I was convinced it was an authenticated journey—Chief Puelle told me so himself, but I feared my sister wasn't just looking for the truth, but also for revenge.

Menardi returned to the north months later, and almost all of her followers were gone. Thirty men had departed and only three made the journey home.

She went to raid an ancient temple guarded by another order established by the Saints and her warband was almost wiped out by the other orders' defences. The only ones who returned with her were Rhen the diviner and a nameless volunteer.

Menardi openly admitted to her crimes against the Saints. She took the blame upon herself to protect her accomplices. She confessed to the council she had been to the Mars Lighthouse and discovered Weyard's dreaded fate like our parents did. She said she wanted to ignite the Elemental Lighthouses. She said we had to bring Alchemy, the source of magic, back to the world.

My sister betrayed the Saints. My sister betrayed our people and our beliefs. She was stripped off her rank and kicked out of the Order of Prox. Chief Puelle talked the council out of exiling her though, stating that my sister had served our people well in the past. My sister's last words before the sentence was passed down still rings in my ears:

"Our ancestors signed up to protect the world, not to passively doom us all!"

In the next three years, my sister did community service as a healer. She had been dishonoured, but the fire in her soul burned brighter than ever. She never told me anything about it, but she plotted a new operation.

A month ago, Menardi turned on the Order of Prox. She gathered volunteers and struck the temple's vault at night. She stole the preserved magic ship that carried our ancestors to the north and used it to outrun the Guardians across the sea.

When I heard the call to arms, I took up the chase. I didn't care that my sister sailed a magic ship that defied the forces of water and wind. I just knew that I could not let her become an outlaw witch. I knew I had to bring her back to face justice. Our parents would have wanted it that way. Our parents would have wanted me to stay true to my principles, even if it meant facing Menardi in battle.

I couldn't catch her. I had to give up like the rest of the Guardians when we faced a maze of icebergs my sister somehow conjured up.

Back home, I finally broke into her room. On her desk was a wooden box addressed to the council. In it lay inscriptions she had copied off from a wall inside of the Mars Lighthouse. They revealed the disturbing truth of Weyard's decline:

The source of magic—Alchemy, sustained the world's foundations. Without it our world was crumbling and falling apart—Weyard would inevitably be destroyed.

When I was young, Mother told me to never paddle too far into the north, warning me about the Gaia Falls. They are endless waterfalls at the distant edge of the world. Beyond that point there was no return, she said. Beyond the falls was oblivion, she told me.

And it was to oblivion the continents of Weyard would drift if Alchemy wasn't restored.

In my sister's written testimony, she said she had seen the Gaia Falls from the top of Mars Lighthouse and that it was closer to us than we could imagine. She said if the council still stubbornly wanted to honour our ancestors' oaths of protecting the Seals of Alchemy, she would alone be a betrayer—she and her oathbreakers would make a difference and do what heroes should do.

My people were shocked when the terrifying revelation was made public. I too could not believe that the venerated Saint Prox's plan was to doom the world. So I scaled the Mars Lighthouse myself. I don't have my sister's scheming talents or patience to unlock the gates, even if the Order didn't try to stop me. But I have the fortitude to scale the Lighthouse's walls. Under the faded aurora at dusk, I hung on the side of the tower, nearly at the top. As I turned to the sea, I saw the Gaia Falls with my own eyes.

* * *

I am Karst of the Fire Clan. I descend from heroes of a forgotten age. The blood of the Ancients flows in my veins.

My ancestors dreamt of a hero that would restore our people's glory and lead us to reclaim the Golden City.

For centuries, no one had dared to rise to the call.

For almost a millenium, we've thought it was our destiny to protect the Mars Lighthouse here in the north.

Now, our hero has risen and it is time for us to make our own fates.

Menardi, my sister… I know you will succeed.

* * *

**_A__uthor's Notes:_**

I've rewritten this story at least three times, and as of now, I've pretty much decided that this story can't be a called a "novelization" anymore, since you can only change so much until it becomes "alternative universe". "Adaptation" would be a better term.

The introduction chapter is basically all exposition and I chose to drop this huge backstory in the beginning mainly to give readers an idea of what to expect from the story.

In this prologue, I establish some fundamental concepts about magic and the pantheon. I realize most writers just make all the "summons" gods of Weyard but I will do thing differently. The beings that are summoned by the Djinn still exist in this version though (they known as the "Ancient Heroes").

How Alchemy was sealed and who the Saints are will be delivered in small portions throughout the story. My plan is to tell multiple tales and work with pararelling storylines so it's not just "The Adventures of Isaac and Felix" anymore.

And as the title and this first chapter suggests, Menardi and company won't be scumbag villains here. This is not that kind of story.


	2. – The Broken Blade

**W**hen the priests of Vale felt the earth move beneath their feet, they hurried out of the temple to find the sky covered in dark ominous clouds.

Captain Jonathan, leader of the Templars of Vale, gathered his men. Soaking his scarf in a barrel of water, he ordered eight of his subordinates to make the preparations; if there was a forest fire in the mountains, the Order of Vale needed to deal with it before it got out of control.

The squad soaked their tabards and scarves and doused themselves while Jonathan ordered the priests and the rest of the templars to evacuate the village. He then gestured to his squad and headed up the northern road leading to the peak of Mount Aleph.

The smoke fell closer to ground level as they ascended the narrow mountain trail. Jonathan pressed his soaked scarf over his mouth and nose. The smoke grew thicker and it became harder to see. Suddenly, the earth shook again, forcing the templars to stop in their tracks and stabilize their footing.

After steadying his stance, Jonathan raised his head. No fire has been sighted yet so far. He looked down, seeing the first of the many steps to Sol Sanctum at his feet. The source to that smoke seemed to come from the temple.

Jonathan froze and held his breath. He recalled the event three years ago, in which his predecessor lost his life. Bandits; raiders, lowlife _thieves_. They tried to rob the temple's treasure and Captain Kyle led the defences, protecting the gates of Sol Sanctum…

"_Captain!_" Peter, one of the young initiates in the squad called out. "Look!"

Two shadows slowly emerged from the veil of smoke ahead, approaching the templars at uneven pace. The templars and priests raised their swords and spears—each weapon radiating the Psynergies of Fire and Earth.

It was the pilgrims, Jonathan figured. It _had_ to be those pilgrims who arrived in the village earlier today—_everyone_ in Vale knew the old temple had been a restricted area since the foiled raid three years ago.

The intruders stopped in their tracks. They stumbled, seemingly weakened from running and breathing in the smoke. They coughed loudly, having trouble catching their breaths. Finally, a familiar voice called out Jonathan's name in desperation, and the captain lowered his spear.

Jonathan gestured with his arm, ordering his men to hold their spells. As the intruders stepped out of the smoke and shadows, they all recognized the two young men; one was a member of the order. And the other was Kyle's errant son.

"Garet?" said Jonathan, looking at the young templar with a questioning gaze. He then grasped Kyle's son on the arm, shaking him urgently. "And Isaac? What are you doing here? What's going on?"

Garet coughed violently. He was covered in ashes and dirt as if he'd dug himself out of a grave. Isaac was coated in the same amount of dust and paths of tears were clearly visible on his face. Like a frightened child, he grasped Jonathan's tabard. And with a panicked look in his cornflower eyes, he screamed for Jonathan to run and get the hell out of here.

Both boys panicked. They had seen some despicable horrors up there in the temple, no doubt.

"Lorenz," Jonathan ordered one of the young priests in the squad, "get them back to the village." But Isaac and Garet both resisted the escort.

"No!" said Isaac in between coughs, flailing wildly in fear and confusion. "_Don't go up there!_"

"It's _suicide__!_" Garet yelled, shaking Jonathan's arm in desperation. "The mountain is about to explode! Get out of here—_now__!_"

The young templar merely finished his warning before Peter cried out:

"_Captain!_ Look ahead!"

Heavy smoke and ashes rolled down the mountain trail. The mountaintop, barely visible in obscuring clouds, exploded in fire and brimstone.

Jonathan stared and his shield crashed to the ground. Mount Aleph had been dormant for centuries. In fact, few even knew it was a volcano.

"_Captain!_" Lorenz called out it in desperation. "_Orders__?_"

With his free hand, Jonathan whisked a command of retreat. As he ran, he raised his trusty spear and said his prayers, drawing his Psynergy and preparing a spell. But before he could cast it, a barrier of energy swept out behind the trees. It gleamed like golden dew in the morning and swept past behind Jonathan, rising high towards the heavens. It encased the mountain in a dome of magic light, preventing the volcanic gas and dust from reaching the village below.

Jonathan staggered back and his spear slipped out of his grip and fell to the ground. Turning towards his subordinates, he spoke:

"E-excellent work. Whichever of you did that clearly should take my place."

"We didn't do it…" said Lorenz, equally shaken by the event. "Even with our combined strengths, we wouldn't be able to do something like that…"

* * *

It was a grim evening in the temple of Vale, and the fires of Mount Aleph painted the skies bright red. The villagers were terrified and most of the priests and templars were trying to convince the last stubborn people to evacuate. Who or what maintained the barrier holding back the pyroclastic flow? No one knew for sure, but many believed the Saints had intervened to save their lives.

Isaac knelt before the altar in silence. In the warm candlelight, his fair hair shone like gold and his dark blue eyes almost seemed violet.

The Order of Vale had gathered to hear what he had to say for himself. The temple had guarded the secret of Sol Sanctum for centuries, but now, someone had betrayed the Order and the Saints.

Isaac still had to turn seventeen. He had a bright future ahead of him. Most people knew him as the son the venerated Captain Kyle.

Kyle gave his life to the temple and the village. He gave his life to his people. When he was Captain, he led the templars brilliantly and defended the village against bandits and other outside threats. He was a paragon of justice and Vale had never been safer when he was alive. But as history had shown, heroes like him seldom lived for long.

Three years ago, he tried saving the high priest's apprentice during a terrible storm and lost his life. It was a great loss for both the temple and the village.

Isaac smiled joylessly. He was a far cry from his father's heroic image. He'd wanted to follow his father's footsteps and become a templar, but he failed the entrance exam. And then, he childishly threw a fit about it, shaming both himself and his late father's name. Isaac could imagine Captain Kyle rolling in his grave right now. If Kyle knew what his stupid son had gotten himself into, he'd probably disown him right here and now for everyone to see.

It was strange. Even surrounded by all the powerful men in the village, Isaac felt no fear. All he felt was the bitterness of being betrayed by a trusted friend, who used him for his own selfish needs and then left him to die in the volcanic eruption.

Isaac lifted his head, and looked at the tapestries hanging from the temple's walls. They depicted various important events in Vale's history.

Ages ago, the Saints chose the Valians as protectors of the world, giving them the task of guarding the ancient temple of Sol Sanctum. The temple housed the secret to a great power, which in the wrong hands would plunge the world into a second age of chaos and destruction.

The Order of Vale kept the villagers safe. With Elemental magic—with Psynergy—they had safeguarded Sol Sanctum for centuries.

Outsiders never fully understood the Valians' zeal, since the exact secrets of Sol Sanctum was well kept knowledge only available for the members of the temple. To most people, the Valians were a deeply religious lot who chose to live in a backwards society withdrawn from the rest of the world. Others believed they lived in a utopia free from conflict and commerce. Few had heard of the Elemental Stars, the treasures hidden deep inside Sol Sanctum's vault. Even some of the Valians didn't believe they actually existed; no one had seen them ever since the Saints sealed the vault centuries ago.

But today, Isaac saw the Elemental Stars. He even held them in his hands. Those gemstones, they had the power to release forces deadly enough to destroy the world. His ancestors had sworn to hide them from the outside world at all cost. Yet, he picked them from their pedestals and handed them over to thieves.

"Do you want to explain now or never, child?" said Harald softly, having waited long enough for Isaac to gather his thoughts. The high priest sounded more disappointed than angry.

Isaac lifted his head slightly, looking up towards Harald from under his blond dirty fringe. The high priest was an old man with sunken grey eyes. Half of his face was hidden under a veiled hat and a long grey beard. To foreigners, he might just be an elderly man, but he was actually one of the most powerful Adepts in the village. He ascended to his position through skill and respect, and his predecessor had retired in favour for him. If he hadn't taken the vows to never leave the temple, he'd probably had gone out to investigate the mysterious eruption himself.

Isaac directed his gaze back to the cold stone floor. Only the high priest had encouraged him to hone his skills and try the entrance exam. Harald told Isaac that his hard work would pay off and that he knew Isaac had it in him to become a templar like Kyle. Now, the mere thought of that statement drew a bitter smile on Isaac's lips. Captain Kyle died on duty saving people in a tempest. Isaac was a coward who ran away in the face of danger.

"It's my fault," said Isaac finally, still wearing that bitter smile on his lips. "I'm responsible for the theft of the temple's relics. I opened the gates to Sol Sanctum. I navigated through the temple, disarmed the traps and cleared a path for temple robbers to walk right into the vault. I am the reason the Elemental Stars were stolen."

"_What are you saying?_" a voice suddenly sounded from the ranks of templars gathered in the chapel. Isaac sighed, turning his face aside to look at his friend.

Ah, Garet, always so easy to pick out from the crowd with that tall stature and bright red hair. Garet, the one who always got out of trouble because he was the village chief's grandson. Garet, who was there with Isaac when the temple was robbed, but wasn't treated like a criminal because he was a templar and Isaac was not.

"You're _lying!_" said Garet. "_Why_ are you lying? Isaac, tell us the _truth_!"

The truth?

"You mean the truth about me taking the Elemental Stars from their pedestals and handing them over to the thieves?" said Isaac with an ironic chuckle.

Gasps and whispers spread among the ranks. Everyone was in disbelief.

"For heaven's sake Isaac!" Garet yelled, but he was quickly drowned out by the people around him.

"_Listen__!_" said Garet, pushing himself past the other templars, "We tried securing the relics! We didn't help the thieves—well, not _intentionally__!_"

Peter and Stefan, the newest additions to the order, grabbed Garet and urged him to "sit this one out", but the Fire Adept resisted.

"He's _lying__!_" Garet yelled again, tearing free from Peter and Stefan's hold. He rushed to the middle of the chapel where Isaac still knelt. "I was there too! I'll tell you what really happened!"

Isaac sighed and shook his head, but Garet suddenly kicked him on the shoulder and sent him to the floor. Landing on his hands, Isaac rigidly crawled back up to his knees and faced his friend; Garet, the "friend" who always had to be right.

"You didn't hand over the Elemental Stars!" said Garet, staring back at Isaac with a furious look. "_I_ did! We didn't lead the thieves to the relics! _Felix_ did!"

Isaac's let out a small chuckle again.

"What difference does it make?"

"What difference does it make?" repeated Garet, grabbing the front of Isaac's tunic and then throwing him to the floor, again. "Do you even hear what you're saying? What do you gain from taking the blame?"

Isaac sat up again and grinned. What he would gain? He would gain a quick end to his miserable life. He'd finally stop shaming his own father's name and be the laughingstock of the village. And he'd be free from this feeling of hopelessness and guilt.

"_Silence!_" said Harald, slamming his spear against the floor and shaking the earth with a spell, and the chatter and whispering immediately stopped at his command.

The high priest approached Garet—because why not? Why would anyone trust Isaac when it was his word against Garet's.

"Did you say _Felix_? As in my apprentice, Felix?" asked Harald.

Garet slowly nodded.

"No," said Harald, almost whispering in disbelief while shaking his head. "It can't be Felix. Kyle and Ralf tried to save him, and they all perished in the storm."

"He's _not_ dead," said Garet. "Isaac and I saw him with our own eyes! Jenna too! She should know if her own brother is standing right in front of her!"

A wave of gasps and whispers coursed through the hall again.

"Felix was there with the thieves," Garet continued. "They… they took him prisoner and forced him to lead them into the temple. We… we only gave up the Elemental Stars because they stabbed him and said they'd let him die…"

All the members of the templars stared at the young Fire Adept, not sure what to believe. And in desperation, Garet solemnly swore to the Saints that every word he said was true. Harald looked at him and nodded, but then asked why he and Isaac were at Mount Aleph to begin with. Garet's eyes grew wide as saucers, and he stared back at Harald in what seemed to be a mix of fear and hesitation.

"_The pilgrims!"_ he then said. "The pilgrims who arrived in the village this morning, they were thieves! Kraden—"

"Kraden? The scholar?" asked Lorenz.

"Yes, Kraden the scholar," said Garet. "Those pilgrims approached Kraden with a proposal of sorts. He didn't say what it was about but he said they knew awfully much about Sol Sanctum and the Elemental Stars despite not being Valians…"

"Well, then why didn't you warn the Order?" asked Harald. "It is not your place to investigate on your own."

Isaac looked at his friend, waiting for Garet's reply. The Fire Adept remained quiet, staring back at Isaac, who proudly pointed towards the altar with his nose and grinned haughtily.

"I was… trying for promotion," said Garet finally, clenching and unclenching his fists. The sound of his stiff voice gave away the obvious lie and he glared at Isaac meaningfully as he continued: "I thought I could do it on my own… and prove how capable I am. I was _wrong_."

Isaac's eyes twitched when he met his friend's judging look. Of course—how could Garet pass up the opportunity to rub it in his face? Of course he would tell Isaac what a horrible idea it was to try securing the relics themselves.

"Wait…"

He looked around, seeing Garet's grandfather approaching Harald and whisper something in the high priest's ear. Grandpa Erik then made a calming gesture to Isaac, urging him to stay quiet. Great, now the rest of the family was coming to his rescue.

Isaac looked away. He didn't understand. If the temple needed someone to blame, why couldn't it be him? There was no reason for Garet to throw his future away to cover up for Isaac's dumb decisions. This would have been a great way to go out too, but now they'd ruined it.

Garet proceeded to explain what happened in Sol Sanctum. He said they almost retrieved all of the Elemental Stars when the thieves arrived and took Jenna and Kraden hostage. He said they didn't hand the gems over until the thieves turned Felix to the sword. He said they stabbed Felix and refused to let anyone close while he was bleeding out. He said he hoped he could take Felix back to the temple and get help while the thieves still fetched the rest of the relics. He said he and Isaac handed the Elemental Stars over because they didn't want to see Felix die again.

Harald nodded. He sympathized but stated that Garet's duty as a templar should always come first. He sighed and then concluded they'd face justice later.

Justice. Isaac chuckled. No punishment could compare to being remembered as "that idiot who let the thieves into Sol Sanctum".

"We…" said Garet desperately. "We already faced justice!"

Isaac burst out laughing.

"Keep making things up," he told Garet. "I'm sure they'll believe _anything_ you say no matter how ridiculous."

"I'm _not_ making things up!" Garet shouted back, not necessarily at Isaac. "When we plucked the last relic, the old temple collapsed."

"_And__?_" challenged Isaac.

"We couldn't get out. The trap was designed to kill us! If the Saints didn't want us to live we wouldn't have been saved by this… floating boulder with an eye—"

"The Wise One?" said someone from the crowd.

"The Wise One," repeated Garet, loudly. He cast a glance across the hall, seeing the stunned looks of his friends and colleagues. "_We were saved by the Wise One._"

Isaac shook his head. He didn't know whether to laugh or admire Garet's commitment.

"For all things you could have said, you went with divine intervention?" said Isaac with a breathy ironic laugh. "_Really__?_"

Garet's eyes flashed. He shoved Isaac to the floor again. He would have beaten Isaac black and blue if Peter and Stefan hadn't pulled him away.

"_Why_ are you making it hard for me to help you?" Garet shouted even as he was being dragged out of the temple. "What do you gain from this, you idiot!"

Isaac snorted as he heard his friends' voices die out and the temple door slam close. Garet's grandfather frantically cast a look towards the exit. He then stepped forth and put a protective hand on Isaac's shoulder.

"_Harald_," began Grandpa Erik, but the high priest raised his hand and said:

"We'll discuss his punishment later, Erik. First, we need to know what people were involved in this raid." He looked down at Isaac and gestured to him to rise. "So tell me, Isaac, _who_ gave you the idea to investigate Sol Sanctum alone?"

Isaac sighed and stayed on the floor. Didn't he already say it was his own stupid idea?

"You're a _sensible_ boy," said Harald, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. "I don't believe this is something you'd do on your own. Whose suggestion was this?"

Grandpa Erik reached around Isaac's arm and pulled him up to his feet. He whispered words of comfort to him as if he was a small child: "Now, don't be afraid, just tell High Priest Harald how it is."

Isaac sighed. He detested his own situation, but he tried to cooperate. His thoughts wandered back to the event in the morning.

He snuck up to the mountain with Garet and Jenna—It _was_ his stupid idea, right?

He remembered hesitantly touching the carved stone gates of Sol Sanctum, admiring the beauty of the old temple and tracing the lock with a spell in hand. How could it _not_ have been his fault when he opened the gates?

He scratched the back of his head, remembering making his way up to the top floor of the temple and gazing out to the village from higher altitude. He remembered seeing flashes of light behind him and a small lightning storm in the hall after Garet and Jenna had moved statues around for some reason. And he remembered panicking and telling Garet and Jenna they should leave and report back to the priests before someone discovered they'd been messing with the stuff inside the ruins.

Isaac lowered his hand from the side of his head, slowly looking up towards Harald.

Kraden.

Kraden the scholar was acting like a stubborn child despite being Harald's age. He kept nagging for more whenever Isaac or Garet said it was enough exploring. Kraden was the one who said they needed to secure the relics. He reasoned that now when all the traps were disarmed, the thieves could walk right in and take the Elemental Stars for themselves without effort! He convinced Isaac to seize the relics, saying he could use this opportunity to prove his worth to the temple.

Kraden. It was Kraden! He went back to his lab to bring some special bags to hold the Elemental Stars even _before_ they went up the mountain—he'd planned the take the relics from their final resting places from the beginning!

"Do you remember anything important, my child?" asked Harald.

"I-I…" said Isaac. He felt tears sting his eyes and his heart sink. How could he be so _stupid_? "I-I…" He tried to speak again, but his voice failed him. He was blinded by his anger towards the temple that he allowed Kraden to convince him this was a good idea. Kraden told him this was a great way to prove he was worthy of carrying the temple's banner. And Isaac believed him.

He was about to confess, but in that moment, the front door slammed open. Isaac's heart sank again when he saw Garet and Stefan returning to the chapel—now accompanied by Isaac's sickly mother. Grief, fear, confusion; all these emotions were on her face as she stared at her only child. Her arrogant, stupid child who allowed himself to be tricked not only once, but _twice_!

_"Argh!"_

A blinding flash emitted from the altar and surged through the hall. Isaac cowered on the floor, his hands proving useless in shielding his eyes. He felt a force press around his head, and a commander's loud voice filled his ears with gibberish chanting. He couldn't discern any words; the voice was overbearing like a storm and sounded just like one. He couldn't think. He couldn't even question what was going on. His head hurt. He thought it was about to explode. All he wanted was for this to stop.

And stopped it did.

The light withdrew as quickly as it had arrived, leaving Isaac reeling in shock; his heart beat like a drum and he gasped for breath. Hesitantly, he sat up and looked around. The high priest and everyone else in the temple seemed taken aback as well, and many members of the order sat on their knees and hands. What did this mean? Isaac didn't know. But Garet apparently did.

"_I told you!_" said the friend. "It wasn't our fault!"

Harald slowly straightened himself. His eyes wandered from Isaac to Garet.

"You heard it too?" asked the high priest, almost out of breath and gesturing towards Isaac.

"Only g-gibberish…" stammered Isaac.

"_Gibberish_?" said Garet, giving Isaac a confused look. "You didn't hear it—"

"It doesn't matter," said Harald, quickly swiping his hand in front of him and dismissing Garet's comment. He turned to the priests. "The Wise One has spoken. Karl, go and tell our people Vale will be safe from the eruption. Get them back to the village and seal the gates."

"Yes…"

"Olaf, I want a bounty on all these thieves. Felix included."

"_Understood._"

"All seniors get out and tell our people the Saints watches over us. We will see this through. And you, Jonathan, prepare the defences. I want every Adept trained for combat. I want every plough and scythe reforged to a weapon."

"Understood."

Isaac watched in confusion as the gathering dispersed. Didn't anyone want to know what that light and that voice was about? He turned towards Harald, watching him stop Garet from leaving.

"No, Garet, stay here with Isaac. We have much to discuss."

Isaac stepped over to his mother who was still shaken by the news. He didn't know what Garet told his mother, but he tried comforting her regardless:

"I'm fine, Mum…" he said, draping an arm across her back, but she shook her head and ran a sleeve over her eyes.

"Harald, what is it?" said Grandpa Erik. "That horrible noise… what was that about? Was that your doing?"

"That _horrible noise_was _The Wise One_ explaining what happened in the ruins," replied the high priest with a snort. The gaze from his grey eyes then landed on Isaac. "And I also believe you have something to return to the temple."

Isaac looked back at him in confusion.

"The Mars Star. I know you still have it."

Isaac quickly searched his belt pouch and fished out a red marble the size of a sparrow's egg. He presented it to Harald, who nodded slightly in approval and picked it up.

"The Elemental Stars. To think that I'd see them in my lifetime…" Harald stroked his beard. "Even with only three of them, one has enough power to throw the world off balance."

"High Priest… Wh-what do you mean?" said Isaac's mother. "My son… what has he done?"

"Dora, the temple has guarded these relics for centuries," said Harald, gesturing towards the tapestries. "They house great power. They are the keys to lighting the Elemental Lighthouses. The Saints built them to seal away a fearsome power that almost caused the destruction of the world."

Isaac looked at the gem. Unbelievable.

"W-we have to get those thieves!" Garet spontaneously said. "We have to take the Elemental Stars back!"

Isaac turned to stare at his friend, a fire rising within him. The stupid marbles were the first thing he thought of?

"_They got Jenna!__"_ Isaac yelled. He couldn't believe he had to say this. _"Who knows what they're doing to her?_"

For a moment, silence filled the chapel. Isaac watched the expression of shock and horror pass over Garet's face, and it only infuriated him more. He never considered the possibilities? _Really?_

"F-felix's with her," said Garet, letting his gaze wander over everyone else's faces in search for agreement. "He'll protect her, _right__?_"

_"Felix?_ The liar who _let the thieves _take Jenna hostage to begin with? Are you _insane__?_"

Garet placed a hand to the side of his head, looking desperate and confused. Isaac felt somewhat guilty for his harsh words. He didn't mean to horrify everyone, but he just couldn't trust Felix anymore after what happened in Sol Sanctum.

"It sounds like you want to go after them," said Harald meaningfully.

"What—?" began Garet, but Isaac cut him off:

"Yes."

"Isaac, _no__!_"

Garet protested but Isaac didn't even look at his friend. Isaac's eyes were fixed on Harald's, silently begging for a chance for redemption.

"I volunteer to go after the thieves," whispered Isaac, closing his eyes—pleading.

"Then I will accept your offer," replied Harald evenly. "You will leave the village at daybreak, Isaac. You will find and reclaim the Elemental Stars. That will be your task, Isaac, and your task alone."

As Harald turned away to leave, Isaac felt a weight lift from his chest. His knees felt weak and he sunk down to the floor. Lifting his arms, he caught falling tears on his sleeves.

"You can't be _serious__!_" said Garet, yelling at Harald in protest. "High Priest! You're sending Isaac _alone_ to reclaim the relics?"

Harald looked back at Garet and the serious look in his eyes made the young templar lower his head in apology. Grandpa Erik, however, refused to be intimidated. He scolded the high priest, and Isaac's mother begged Harald to reconsider too.

"What do you think a _child_ like Isaac can possibly accomplish, Harald?" said the village chief, gesturing wildly in disbelief. "Have you gone _senile?_"

"Isaac says he needs this journey," said Harald solemnly. "Moreover, being partly responsible for the theft, his stay will only demoralize our people if not _worse_."

"Please, High Priest. He's just a boy, you can't do this…"

Isaac hated to hear his mother cry. And he hated to let other people fight his own battles for him.

"Mum, Grandpa Erik, _stop_," he spoke up, trying not to tremble with his words. "I _need_ to do this," he whispered. "I need to do this for… for Jenna. It's my fault she's been captured. I need to rescue her. I…" He then raised his voice and almost shouted: "_I don't want to stay here after what I've done! I __need__ to leave! Don't you understand?__"_

They didn't understand. None of them did. Maybe Harald understood, but no one else did.

"You're not a fairytale hero," said the mother, "and this isn't one of the games you played when you were children."

"Dora, Erik," said Harald. "I don't want anyone to try to deal out their own justice to Isaac when I turn my head away. This is for the best."

The stubborn look in Grandpa Erik's hazel eyes faltered, but he didn't back down entirely.

"You should at least have company with you," said the village chief. "Harald, send a couple of men with him—"

"I can't send fighters away from Vale, Erik," replied Harald wryly. "We need our defences here."

"But you said the village would be safe!"

"The Wise One protects us from the eruption, but it cannot leave Mount Aleph. We must defend the village against outside enemies ourselves. We can only hope Felix hasn't divulged the secret of the Stars to these bandits or we'll be facing the biggest threat in Vale's history. They will be back for this…" Harald raised the Mars gem. "You know the legend, Erik; Four beacons lit, and the end of the world draws near! If they're after the secret of the Stars, they will spare no effort to get this last gem."

"Then you _definitely_ should send people after them!" Grandpa Erik gestured wildly. "We have to get the Elemental Stars back!"

"We don't know what we are facing," said Harald. "I have been in command of the defences of Vale as long as you've been a _figurehead__!_ Isaac is an _Adept. _He's a resourceful and clever boy. He might not be Kyle, but I don't see simple thugs having a chance against him if he's prepared to deal with their trickery."

"What makes you think they won't try using Jenna again as a hostage?" asked Garet.

"I don't," replied the high priest. "I do however expect Isaac to wise up and not make the same mistakes again."

With a swipe of his arm, a sheathed sword hanging on the wall tore itself from its rack and flew into Harald's hand, glowing brightly in a magical light.

"This was Kyle's," said Harald, lowering the sword to Isaac's hands as the light faded away. "Leave as soon as possible. The longer you wait, the harder it will be for you to catch them. And if the task becomes too much for you to handle, Isaac, I expect you to return."

With that, Harald gestured and tore the gates open with his Psynergy. As he left the chapel, Isaac looked down at the sword in his hands, brushing shaky fingertips over the ornate scabbard and then clamping his hand over the cold hilt. He'd held several swords throughout life and been the owner of at least two. But none of them had been of the high quality steel exclusively made for temple issued weapons. This was his father's sword. A captain's blade. This was a hero's sword. And it was his now.

With a shaking hand, he began drawing the sword out, revealing the runes on the middle of the double-edged blade. Then suddenly, he realized that it felt wrong in his hand—the weight was off. He drew the blade out completely, and then saw that the blade was snapped in two.

Isaac didn't hear Grandpa Erik say distasteful things about Harald. He didn't hear his mother break down in tears. All he knew was that he had been given a broken blade.

* * *

**_Author's Notes:_**

Once, I too wrote it all chronologically, starting with "the storm of Vale" and then doing the timeskip of "three years". But then, what's the fun with that? Basically, the only thing interesting would be Felix's journey because that's the only part the readers haven't seen. Everything else would be predictable because if you're reading a fanfic, you have obviously played the game(s). And really, what's the fun in reading a story that is basically a rehash of the game?

I don't know how much I can say about this chapter without giving out too much spoilers, but one thing I'd like to comment on is the Order of Vale.

You see, I'm doing a lot of world building here and one important thing is to make something that at least resembles a working society. I don't want to slam on the game on this department because game-logic doesn't equal realism and the adventures of the game rely on the world being incompetent, but I'm going for a more realistic approach here so all these incompetent towns needs to go.

You might think the Temple/Order of Vale is overpowered, but that's the point. The Valians have survived for many generations so they can't be the helpless lot they are in the game. They are essentially protecting the keys to doomsday machines (at least that's what the Valians believe they are) and you would figure they would at least have some sort of organized defence. Maybe it doesn't have to be as OP as the Order of Vale, but at least _something_; in the game everyone in Vale is so helpless that it's _laughable_. Let's face it—Menardi could have just butchered everyone in Vale first and then get the Elemental Stars since there is literary no opposition. The thing with them promising Felix not to hurt the people is pretty much just a handwave, because Menardi and Saturos don't seem to have any problems trying to murder Isaac and Garet later on in Mercury Lighthouse (plus, they ganked everyone in Suhalla Ridges and Venus Ligthhouse).

In my version, the reason the Proxians don't attack the villagers is not mainly because they promised Felix; it's because they simply _can't_. Jonathan, Harald and each the templars are about as powerful as the Proxians themselves. In fact, the Proxians would get owned if they didn't use subterfuge.

I've also changed the reasons for Isaac leaving Vale, because sending two teenagers who'd spend all their lives in Vale off on their own after the MacGuffins is pretty dumb if you don't look at it from a gaming perspective. Having Isaac bringing the Mars Star with him is an even dumber idea. Think about it a for second; the crooks want the treasure, so the logical reason is to… bring it to them?

Isaac's leave is a personal thing here, because the focus is on Isaac as a character. Harald actually doesn't expect him succeed; he's just sending Isaac away because Isaac wants to leave. They also do not know that Menardi and company are Adepts because they never used any spells (no, they can't sense their midichlorians).


	3. – The Traitor

**J**enna hadn't slept well for a long time. How could she sleep when these scums of humanity had taken her brother hostage and killed her friends?

She'd refused to leave Isaac and Garet behind as Sol Sanctum crumbled. They were trapped in a remote area, too far away from the exit. She'd tried running to them, but someone knocked her out.

Did Felix hit her? Maybe. But probably not. He was too weak to do something like that. It was probably the thug or the witch who did it. Even in her dazed condition, Jenna recalled someone hoisting her up over their shoulder and carrying her out of the vault. She'd tried to fight back, but her limbs were all heavy. The bandits probably used a drug to weaken her since she grew more tired each passing second. She could barely hear the thieves screaming at each others, and she couldn't recall anything of a fight.

Was there even a fight? There probably was. The templars would have tried to stop them. But Jenna couldn't remember. She fell asleep long before they got out of the ruins. And when she woke up it was night and she was in a foreign tent in middle of the woods.

* * *

The first person to greet her was that long-haired pansy Alex. He was a healer, so the thieves naturally made him check on her.

Jenna had met him before. While still in the village, she genuinely thought he was an honest pilgrim. He was polite and soft-spoken. He looked normal; he didn't wear a hood over his head or a mask as if he had something to hide, and he didn't carry heavy weapons like the other crooks. Who could have known he too was in cahoots with the thieves?

Alex asked her if she was hurt and he applied a healing spell to her head. He was an Adept, and his energy was cool and calming; obviously, his element was Earth or Water. At first, Jenna thought Alex was with the templars. She thought the Order of Vale had rescued her and captured the ones responsible for her friends' deaths, since Felix and the freaks were nowhere seen.

"Wh-where's Felix?" she asked. "Where's my brother? He was kidnapped too and—"

"He's fine", replied Alex, putting a hand on her shoulder and motioning her to lie down and rest. "He's gathering wood. Rest now. I'll tell you when he gets back."

At first, she wanted to insist to see Felix immediately, but after realizing that she was using her brother's ragged cape as a blanket, she decided to trust the healer.

Even so, it was hard to relax when she was worried for her family. A campfire cast warm comforting light against the tent-cloth. She was still a bit tired. She thought of her brother—what could have happened to him? Why was she in a tent instead of the ward? Where exactly was she? After asking so many questions, she finally decided to crawl out of the tent and get some answers.

Who did she see if not the tribal freak who manhandled her in Sol Sanctum? He sat by the campfire roasting a big fish; it looked like a pike. When did _he_ get here? She didn't see any templars and she didn't see Alex either. Instinctively, she drew her knife.

The thug clearly noticed her move, but he didn't seem to care. He rolled his eyes and gave her a disdainful glance, continuing tending to the food.

He was just a thief, Jenna thought. Sure, he was larger than Jenna herself, but she was an Adept! She only let him push her around because he had Felix at swordspoint. Now when she didn't need to worry about a hostage, this lowlife wouldn't be so lucky.

Jenna slowly stepped over to the brigand, staring down at him as he began eating on a large fish head. His hair was grey and slightly blue and kept out of his eyes with a headband. His complexion was pale like death, and his ears were severely deformed. Jenna had seen people with big ears before, but it was the first time she'd seen a person with donkey ears. He also had strange markings drawn on his face. Jenna wondered what kind of freakish low culture forest tribe he belonged to. Her gaze lingered on a fancy sword lying a bit further away from the thief. She cast a look at his armour and cape, wondering how much of his stuff was pilfered from innocent people.

"What?" said the thug in a low and raspy voice, lifting his head to stare at Jenna with red demonic eyes. His gaze moved from Jenna's knife to the food in his hands and when he picked up his own knife, Jenna raised hers. But he didn't attack, and instead cut off a piece of the roasting pike, put it on a piece of paper and offered it to her.

"Here," he said. "You're hungry, right?"

Jenna looked down at the fish, and laughed for herself. A fish? He thought a fish would buy him forgiving? _Fat chance._

She attacked him with a knife, going for a stab in the face, but her wrist was promptly locked in his sticky hands—disgusting! Jenna growled and focused her Psynergy, hurling a fireball in his face with her free hand. The thug yelped and pushed Jenna away from him, his head ablaze.

Jenna gasped and stumbled back, horrified of what she'd done. Felix… Where was Felix? She had to find him and get out of here. She had to get out of here before someone found out she'd killed a person!

As she backed away from the thief, she crashed into someone else who immediately started grabbing her. In her state of panic she used Psynergy again and a ring of fire around her feet grew into a vortex of flames. She didn't even know how she called such power to her, but she didn't care. She just didn't want to get caught.

Then a pillar of cold water suddenly doused her from top to toe, extinguishing the summoned flames and stripping her off of all her defences.

"Nice try," said the thug. Half of his hair was gone and his face was blackened with soot, but he was otherwise unharmed. "But we're all Adepts around here—each of us a master of the Elements."

Alex began grabbing her again and she called for him to help her, telling him this was the scumbag who had kidnapped her and her brother.

The thief laughed, doubling over.

"_Bah-hahaha!_ Alex is one of us. You couldn't figure that out?"

Jenna's eyes flashed but Alex bounced away just as she swung her fist at him. The thug slipped behind her and grabbed her wrists from behind. He then kicked her legs, dropping her to her knees.

She tried to fight back, but he was too strong. She didn't hear what the crooks said to each other and she screamed, flailed and thrashed around, hoping someone would hear her. Flames burst from her hands but vanished just as quickly; her Psynergy was useless against these warlocks. When she finally stopped struggling and was in tears, bracing herself for the worst, the thug threw her on the ground, muttering something for himself while returning to the food. The healer tried to be helpful, but Jenna instantly broke his nose with her fist.

"_Jenna!_"

If Felix hadn't cried out her name, she'd have torched Alex too. But upon seeing her brother's face, she pulled herself up and ran over to him.

"Felix, please!" Jenna cried, tears rolling down her cheeks as he grabbed the front of his tunic and shook him. "Let's get out of here! Let's leave this place and go home!"

Felix looked at her, worried. But then he saw his partners' injuries, and became confused. Jenna threw her arms around his torso, stopping him from approaching the bandits.

Please, Jenna begged inwardly. Please, don't go. I still need you. You're my brother. Let's get out of here. You're a powerful Adept, Felix. We can easily take out a savage and a weak healer. Please, let's go home, I've missed you so much.

Felix didn't move, and he looked towards the silent thieves.

"What happened?" asked Felix. "Saturos? _Alex!_ What happen to your faces?"

"Your precious little sister was about to burn down the forest," grumbled the thug. "Care to explain why no one told me she was a little witch?"

"She's Felix's sister," said a feminine voice calmly, coming from behind, "of course she knows how to use Psynergy."

Jenna turned around to see the witch approaching. Instinctively, she hugged Felix tighter. This witch. She ordered someone to slit Felix's throat. This witch. She said "Psynergy"—not _magic_. How much did she know about Vale and the Adepts?

The witch seemed to come from the same backwards tribe as the thug with the fish. She too sported deathly pale skin, deformed ears and weird marks on the face. Her hair was pale blond; it almost looked like a white bush. Their tribe must be low-tech. Didn't they have combs?

The witch ignored Jenna. She was carrying Kraden on her back and went over to the campfire to drop him down.

"I thought he left," said the thug, as the witch opened her brooch and then nonchalantly tossed her red cloak over Kraden's head and shoulders.

"He got chased by wild animals," replied the witch with a tired sigh, "and got stuck in the swamp."

Kraden lowered his head under the cloak and began drying his hair.

"On second thought…" he said with an awkward laugh, "I'll leave tomorrow instead."

Jenna stared at the scholar in disbelief. Did he really try to leave her—his student—behind?

Felix suddenly raised his arms to hold Jenna. His grip was light and unsteady. His hands shook, as if he couldn't decide whether to hold on or let go. His eyes; they were still as dark and gentle as she remembered them. But what's this pain and sadness he desperately tried to hide? His hair was so long now, tousled and put into a messy ponytail. And he was so thin under his many layers of clothing. What had these thieves done to him throughout the years? Did they even feed him? Jenna's brother was a healthy young man with rosy cheeks and a constant smile, not a person who seemed like he'd survived on tree bark and berries all of his life.

"Let us go," said Jenna evenly, looking at the witch and the thug.

Felix winced. His hand flew up to Jenna's mouth as the witch turned around.

"She's joking_,_" he said. "She's just tired."

Jenna's eyes flashed upon hearing his words.

"No," said Jenna, tears beginning to cloud her vision and clog her nose. "_Let us go!_"

The thug laughed for himself and whisked his hand as if he couldn't care less. The witch, however, was unmoved and stared back at Jenna in irritation. Felix pulled his sister into a tight embrace.

"She's not leaving," Felix spoke soothingly, trying to calm his sister.

Jenna tried to push him away, but he held on.

"_Felix!_" Jenna shouted at him.

"She's just confused," said Felix, ignoring Jenna's rising fury. "She's scared—"

"We are _leaving!"_yelled Jenna.

"She's staying…" Felix comfortingly patted her on the shoulders.

"_We are leaving__!_" Jenna screeched, delivering a slap to her brother's face, but Felix didn't even flinch.

Jenna slapped him again. She wanted to beat some sense into his thick skull. What was he thinking? Why didn't he listen? He was her brother! Why didn't he listen to her? Why did he want to stay here with these people who killed their friends?

The crooks ignored Jenna and Felix's struggle as if it had all been a needless freak-show. Only the healer tried intervening, but the other two bandits ordered him to stay out of it and eat his food instead.

After a while, Jenna's anger gave into despair and she gave up and cried. Felix stood there with red marks on his face. He walked her back to the tent and then brought her some food to eat, knowing she didn't want to see his allies. At first, she refused to take the food, but ate after Felix tasted it. He was attentive as ever, handing her water when he heard her cough, and he told her to eat slowly so she didn't choke on a fishbone.

Felix kept saying she could trust the bandits because they were righteous people and held honour in high regard.

Righteous huh?

Then why did they wreak havoc in Vale? Why did they defile Sol Sanctum and kill their friends? And if Felix trusted them, why was he so scared of them himself? It sounded more like he'd been brainwashed to think they were good people.

When Felix was about to leave, Jenna grabbed his arm and asked him to stay. He complied, but he didn't say anything about himself and he didn't seem to want to talk about what he'd been through. He slept next to her that night, but with his back facing her, making Jenna feel lonely even though Felix was right there.

The next morning, Jenna was told to head back to Vale. To her surprise, the bandits even gave her food and directions.

"It's a day walk back," said the witch. "If you hurry, you'd be home before sunset. We only dragged you out here due to unpredicted circumstances."

"Felix?" said Jenna, looking to her brother with hopeful eyes.

"He's not leaving," said the thug. He then eyed towards Kraden. "And the old man needs escort to Vault."

She stayed in the camp the whole morning, wondering what they'd do if she refused to leave. They did nothing. They packed up and left her behind as scheduled, not even casting a second glance in her direction. Felix lingered, but in the end, he walked away too. All Kraden had to offer was an unhelpful comment about that she was a tough girl and that it wasn't far away back to Vale at all.

Jenna stayed near the abandoned campsite for a while. She wanted to go home. She wanted to bring an army and get back at the thieves. She wanted to avenge Isaac and Garet. But she couldn't stop thinking about Felix.

Yes, what about Felix? Could she just leave without him? Of course she could. Bringing an army to rescue her brother would be the most sensible thing to do. But what if he vanished from the face of the earth while she was gone? How long would it take her to find him again? She couldn't risk that. And unless he showed willingness to redeem himself, the templars would probably cut him down like the rest of the thieves. No, she couldn't let _that_ happen.

So she stalked the thieves through the woods. She followed the barbarians for days, patiently looking for an opportunity. The thieves controlled her brother with fear, and she needed a moment to set him free. When he was finally alone, she grabbed him and ran. And just for once, he was compliant and followed her steps.

They escaped behind the walls of Vault. She worked so hard to get him away from the thieves. She even pawned off all her valuables to get new supplies for the journey home. But he still wanted to go back to the thieves when Alex the errand boy showed up to drop Kraden off at the townhall.

So now they were going back to be prisoners, because her stupid brother was too weak to stand up for himself. It was just Alex—Jenna could beat him up blindfolded. It was unbelievable that Felix would be intimidated by that sissy long-haired healer.

They spent the whole noon quietly in a room in the Knife and Sticks Inn. Dinner had arrived long ago, but neither of them had touched the soup. Jenna sat by the table, her back facing Felix in contempt, but she could still hear her brother snivelling. The damn thieves were camping outside town and waiting, since they couldn't enter the city. And Felix was crying. Yes, that was all he did nowadays. _Crying_.

Jenna wondered how dead her brother was inside. He was such a pushover, being the thieves' errand boy. He was nothing like the wilful youth he used to be. When he allowed her to drag him away from the thieves, Jenna thought he'd finally regained some common sense. But then he saw Alex on the townsquare with Kraden and changed his mind.

"I can't do it," he told her. "I have to go back! I'm sorry Jenna, _I can't do it!_"

Jenna couldn't believe her ears.

Isaac and Garet. They were her best friends. They were Felix's best friends too. They had bright futures ahead of them. They shouldn't have died young. But they did. They died because Felix decided to betray everything he believed in and stood for.

As children, Jenna had no troubles making friends. She was a sweet girl, a little bit spoiled maybe, but she always reached out to others with a smile.

Felix was a prodigy; he learnt the literary arts faster than anyone else and picked up magical skills by instinct. He was so blessed with his abilities that the Temple of Vale took him in at young age to train him to be a priest. But despite all his talents, he always remained a sweet child. He was playful, always smiling, and so innocently kind and caring. He was the kind of kid who would rescue animals from a huntsman's trap and bring in chickens to mend their clipped wings. That last one actually happened, by the way.

They both liked to help people, but Felix took it one step further. He didn't understand the concept of being rejected and he could be quite tactless with his insistence. Once, he offered to teach Isaac how to write. Isaac said no, but Felix brought quills and parchment to his house and said Captain Kyle would shut up about him being illiterate if he only tried harder. Isaac accused him of rubbing it in his face and punched out his front teeth. Even so, Felix forgave Isaac instantly and lied to protect Isaac from his father's wrath. They had been inseparable friends ever since.

After the storm, Isaac regularly trimmed and planted flowers around the runestone erected in memory of the dead.

The storm—the tragedy—it happened three years ago in the middle of the night. The western side of the village was being evacuated because of an oncoming avalanche. Felix and Jenna somehow fell into the river amidst the chaos. Their parents tried saving them. Isaac's father tried too. And they were all washed away by the current.

The templars couldn't recover the bodies, but after weeks without news it was certain that Captain Kyle and Jenna's family wouldn't come back. The day they were declared dead, Jenna stood on the suspension bridge and wept. Isaac was there too. But he didn't cry. He was sad but also bitter, gripping the railings tightly with his hands. He said he didn't understand why good people had to die so early. He didn't understand why the Saints didn't protect his father or Jenna's family.

Garet was there to pay his respects too. He tossed a bouquet of flowers into the river. At first, he didn't say anything and just clasped his palms in prayer, always having been a pious person. He then told Jenna that crying won't bring anyone back. Isaac began screaming at him for being insensitive, even saying he could only talk because his entire family was alive. Even so, Garet stayed on the bridge and didn't leave. As the autumn rain began to fall he reached out and took Isaac and Jenna's hands, telling them Felix and Captain Kyle wouldn't want to see them like this. That day, the three of them vowed to become mighty Adepts and to protect the village. They would make sure that no one else would have to experience the same sorrows they had to go through themselves.

Garet was the only one to be admitted to the temple. Jenna couldn't join because she was a girl and Isaac couldn't impress the clergy with his abilities. Isaac's mother became ill and had to be taken care of, so they moved in with Garet's family for a year. Isaac felt guilty for burdening Uncle Hans and Aunt Magda, so he went out of his way to take care of most of the household chores. He became rather close with Kay and Aaron, who rather missed his company after he moved back to his family home.

Isaac still trained with a sword during evenings, and Jenna let him teach her. As a girl, she knew she'd never become a templar, but she still wanted to be able to fight and protect the people she cared about. She wanted her grandparents to see that she could take care of herself, but they were only concerned about marriage, saying no man wanted a violent girl as his bride.

Something happened to Garet over the years. He used to be scrawny and bookish like Felix, but after a few years as a templar in training, he'd become stronger than most of the other young recruits. It wasn't really that much of a surprise since his father was tall and broad-shouldered too, but it was still weird to Jenna since Garet spend most of his free time woodcarving and didn't even seem to try building his strength as a warrior.

Three years after the vow on the bridge, he was presented with the temple's regalia. Isaac congratulated him, but sometimes, Jenna couldn't help but feel that Isaac was bitter and jealous. After failing the entrance exam, Isaac often left the village and went on hunting trips, but often came back empty-handed despite being a skilled hunter.

Garet often stopped by the hills to talk when Jenna herded sheep, but they talked more about Felix and Isaac than about anything else. Once, Jenna asked him if he really enjoyed being a templar since he hated fighting and preferred solving conflicts with words. He'd looked away sorrowfully and said he was trying to be the templar Felix couldn't be.

_Knack. Knack._

Jenna suddenly heard a light knock on the door and turned her attention to the doorway. It was Alex again.

"Why that sad look?" asked Jenna, shooting a glare at the frail healer. "Weren't you here to get Felix back to the barbarians? Shouldn't you be happy we're coming without a fight?"

Alex cast a glance towards Felix. He then pointed sideways and left as fast as he'd arrived without saying a word—that coward. Felix briefly looked at the table where the soup had turned cold. He shakily picked up a spoon and then pushed the bowls towards Jenna, telling her they should eat before leaving.

"No appetite," said Jenna.

"But... you haven't had anything the whole day."

"_And whose fault is that?_ I spent days planning to set you free, but all it takes to get you to crawl back to those godless scum is for this blue-haired pansy to show up!"

Felix dropped the spoon and his entire body shook and drew away from her like a frightened animal. Jenna felt a slight guilt about her harsh words, but she didn't apologize.

"So is it true?" she asked bitterly, lowering her voice to a mere whisper. "Did those crooks really fish you up from the river?"

Felix didn't reply.

"Did you even hear what your scumbag friend said earlier?" She raised her voice again, almost shouting as she pointed a finger towards the doorway. "_I deserve to know the truth._"

"They… they did save me..." Felix mumbled. "Yes... I owe them my life."

"And that's why you led them into Sol Sanctum?" asked Jenna, folding her arms over her chest and looking down at Felix's pitiful form with distain.

The brother once again was silent.

"Well, you already held up your part of the bargain," said Jenna with a huff. "You don't owe them anything now. So why are you—"

"You don't understand…"

"_What do I not understand?_" Jenna slammed her fists against the table in a fit of rage. "You've served them for _three years_. You've repaid everything and more! You can betray the people who showered you with love and admiration for fifteen years like nothing, but you feel bad for betraying these _thugs_! Who _are_ you?"

Unable to contain her anger anymore, Jenna picked up one of the bowls and threw the soup in her brother's face. She then proceeded to throw the wooden bowl on the floor.

How dare he still call himself Valian after leading temple robbers into the sacred site! How dare he call himself her brother after letting these bandits kill her friends!

Felix remained quiet in his chair with his face dripping wet. He averted his eyes and wiped his face on his sleeve. This only infuriated Jenna more—what was his game?

"Jenna?" Felix whispered softly.

Was he trying to buy her pity with this act? There's no _need_ for that! He was already ugly and wretched without this act! If it wasn't for his pathetic look, Jenna would've left him long ago. Why couldn't he be a jerk and let her hate him properly? The way he looked at Jenna, it seemed almost like he was calling out for help. But whenever she reached out to rescue him, he chickened out. Why? Why would he bait her sympathy and then refuse to let her help him?

As tears began rolling down her cheeks, her brother finally moved over to her side and shakily put his arms around her.

"I'm sorry…" Felix sobbed, but Jenna couldn't tell what he was apologizing for.

"For what?" whispered Jenna.

"For _everything_."

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

I will touch a bit on the survival aspect here. Felix and company are officially outlaws so they will have problems with money and supplies, unless they go full bandit and start pillaging. (Don't give me something akin to "evry mob drops 20 golds"—that's game logic.)

A major change in this story is that Menardi and company don't want to keep Kraden and Jenna around after leaving Vale. The reason of keeping hostages is to ransom them for money. Jenna is a plain village girl and Kraden is just some nosy old man so they are not exactly worth a lot of money, and the way the templars are they probably wouldn't pay up anyway. Menardi doesnot want to keep prisoners because they are extra mouths to feed and she has limited resources. Felix also would have wanted his sister to be set free afterwards. Jenna going back and reporting them is not a problem because she already expected the templars to hunt for her.

There's still a lot of exposition dumping in this chapter, but it's needed to flesh out the characters' backstories and their relations with each other. Remember what Garet said in the last chapter about trading away the Elemental Stars for Felix's life? There are reasons why Isaac and Garet value Felix so much and these "flashbacks" will explain that a bit. They did not necessary make the trade because they think it's the right thing to do. They did it because they care about Felix as a person—because they were friends, and this is also why Jenna is being so angry and persistent. She wants her brother back, and at this point of the story, she believes he's the last of her immediate family.


	4. – Country Mice in the City

**I**saac liked to picture himself as wise and mighty. Garet however, saw nothing other than a desperate fool.

They left the village on horseback and with supplies, but Isaac lost everything within the first two days. He could shout all he wanted about being a mighty Adept and that common lowlifes were no match for him. That still didn't change the fact that three nameless thieves tricked him and then ran off with almost all of their possessions.

Look at the idiot. His bright blue attire was in disarray and his long scarf hung over his shoulder like a poor man's cape. His ridiculous armour was covered with mud and he looked like a cripple limping with his backpack and tools. Garet couldn't even tell what Isaac was supposed to look like. He looked too stupid for a pilgrim, too overdressed for a hunter, and way too inconspicuous for a bandit. Why would he even dress like that unless he wanted to attract thieves?

They encountered three bards on the first evening and were invited to camp with them. The strangers warned them about brigands, saying that this was a popular trading route usually plagued by thieves. It's several days to the next town, they said. It was unsafe to camp alone, they said.

So the Adepts heeded the advice and joined the musicians in the camp. At night, Garet kept first watch with one of the strangers. His name was Bernard, and he strung a soft tune on his lute and offered Garet ale. Not trusting the bard's artificial smile, Garet declined the offer. He also made sure Isaac took over watch when he needed sleep.

He thought he could rely on Isaac, but what did the idiot do? He let his guard down and a few drinks later, the bards had stolen their horses and ridden off with their supplies. The thieves would've taken off with their weapons and money too if Garet didn't wake up in time. He took up the chase, but of course he couldn't outrun a horse. Afterwards, he dragged his feet back to the camp with his clothes muddied and his hair full of twigs, only to find Isaac still drunk out of mind and asleep.

Next morning, Garet tried convincing his friend to go back to the village, reasoning they couldn't travel without supplies, but Isaac refused.

"I'm not going back to Vale after just one day!" said the Earth Adept.

"Then what are you going to do?" Garet asked, spreading his arms and giving Isaac an incredulous stare. "We don't have any food!"

"We still have our money! We can buy more!"

"_From whom?_ We're in the middle of the woods!"

Isaac took a deep breath, giving Garet an indignant look. After a moment, he raised his gloved hands.

"I've got these," said Isaac with an angry stare. "I'd rather _die_ than crawl back to Vale empty-handed! You can _leave_ now if you want. I never asked for your help."

If Garet hadn't promised his family to look after Isaac, he would've left long ago. _He_ was the reason Isaac was still alive, yet this _moron_ had the nerve to say he didn't ask for Garet's help! Those thieves would've murdered Isaac in his sleep and thrown his body in a ditch to rot if Garet didn't wake up and alerted them! He was so ungrateful. If Garet hadn't promised Isaac's mother he'd make sure her son didn't end up in trouble, he would've left Isaac for his own devices without a second thought!

_Hah,_ of course not. Of course he wouldn't leave. Isaac was his friend through and through, and this wasn't just Isaac's quest—it was Garet's too. Isaac could tell the whole world this was _his_ quest and his quest alone, but Garet had volunteered too, knowing well he wasn't blameless in Felix and Jenna's abduction.

So he followed Isaac southwards, trekking through the forest and following the Valian River instead of sticking to the road. Isaac reasoned this was the best way to avoid highwaymen. He was probably right, but Garet wasn't sure if this really was the best plan—if they'd stayed on the road, they could've run into people willing to help them too.

For the next four days, they lived on mushrooms, berries and fish. That wasn't too bad, but they had to walk long distances every day and sleep in the open at night in rainy August too! At this rate, they'd die of sickness and exhaustion before even finding a single trace of Felix and Jenna. At dawn of the fifth day, Garet was nearing his breaking point. He contemplated knocking Isaac out and dragging him back to Vale, but then they reached a stone bridge and were finally out of the woods.

Seeing a farmer and his daughter crossing the bridge by carriage, Garet praised the Saints and thanked the gods. He hurried over to ask where the farmers were heading. The strangers looked at him with judging eyes, upon which Garet brushed back his tousled hair and politely introduced himself as a templar of Vale. The farmer's daughter hesitantly looked at him and then whispered something to her dad.

"We're on our way to Vault," said the farmer after a while. "You… need a ride, I guess?"

"Yes!" Garet instantly replied. "Yes,_please_," he then added in embarrassment.

Perhaps they pitied him for being a lost traveller. Perhaps they saw the sincerity in his eyes. Despite that Garet looked more like a dirty bandit than a man of the temple, the farmer gave him a curt smile and a nod, gesturing towards the back of the carriage.

"Thank you!" said Garet and quickly climbed aboard. Isaac followed, but he didn't speak a single word for the entire journey.

* * *

A stone wall embraced the town of Vault and about a dozen people were lined up outside of the gate awaiting entry in the middle of the day. There were merchants, farmers, and probably many weary travellers looking for refuge for the night.

Vault. Garet had been here before. Seven years ago, the crops failed miserably in the south, and the priests of Vale decided to send supplies to aid the people in need. Ten year old Garet had never been outside of the village before. He wanted to see the world and snuck aboard the supply carriage, tagging along on the journey. Back then, Vault was just a little bit more than a gathering place for merchants and farmhands to exchange goods. From the looks of it, it seemed like the town had become permanent residence for a lot of people. This stone wall; it showed that the city could defend itself. It was a sign that it no longer was the farming village that regularly had to give into brigands' extortions.

Hopping off the farmer's carriage, Garet thanked the warm-hearted people for bringing him here before joining the line in wait for entrance to the town. The guards seemed to stop every single person at the gate. Some people who dressed rather poorly were refused entry, which made Garet worry about himself a little.

Isaac smirked and commented on how security here was far better than it was in Vale. He said the templars let Felix and the scumbags in despite that they carried heavy weapons and looked like barbarians. Garet decided to ignore his friend, being too tired for pointless arguing. He looked at his own attire and combed out the dried leaves from his hair. When it was finally their turn to enter, a youthful guard with a tuft of black hair on his chin demanded their names and occupations.

"We're travellers," said Isaac in a stoic voice. "We're just here to buy supplies."

Another guard with a round face and short brown hair circled the Adepts. He poked Isaac's rucksack with his spear.

"What do you have in here?" asked the guard.

"Clothing, pots, scissors, knife, logging axe, fishing tools, sharpening stone, extra boots…" replied Isaac, looking annoyed as he listed the stuff in his bag.

The younger guard cast a look at Garet's sword.

"That's yours?"

Garet nodded, but he couldn't explain he was a templar before Isaac yelped:

"_Hands off!_"

"What did you do _now?_" said Garet, groaning as he looked back towards his friend.

Isaac was refusing to let the guards have a look at his stuff. Garet growled impatiently, excusing himself. He yanked the bags away from his friend and threw them on the ground at the guards' feet. After that, he dragged Isaac aside to talk some sense into him.

"_Seriously?_" said Garet. "You're going to start a fight over the pots and pans in your bags? Do you even have anything valuable in there?"

"It's not about the stuff," said Isaac with a frown. "It's about principle. They need a reason to-"

"You want to enter the town or _not_?" Garet hissed impatiently at his friend. "They don't _have_ to let us in, you know?"

Isaac surly turned away and the watchmen finished going through his stuff. They didn't even put it back into the bags and Isaac grudgingly had to gather it from the ground himself.

"What are your connections to the temples?" asked the brown-haired guard.

"I'm a templar," replied Garet. He raised his sword to show the scabbard and the hilt.

"A what?"

"Strictly speaking, I'm a warrior monk. I bring a message from the Valian Order."

The guards looked Garet up and down and then gave Isaac the same treatment. They whispered among themselves and pointed at the Adepts. In one moment, they seemed amused, laughing at Isaac's stupid get-up, and in the next they put on straight faces to ask more questions.

"So _you_ are a monk," said the watchman with the black beard. "What about _you_ then?" He pointed at Isaac. "Are you a bard? _Street performer__?"__He then turned back to Garet._"Any proof that you didn't jump a poor priest on the road and robbed him of his equipment?"

"I'm an apprentice priest," said Isaac lowly, annunciating his words as he fought the urge to do something violent. "I can first break your nose and then heal it if you need _proof_."

Garet tackled his friend and slapped him on the head. He slung an arm around Isaac's shoulders, laughing and apologizing for his friend's behaviour.

"We've been robbed," said Garet, flashing a stupid apologetic grin. "He's stingy because we barely had any sleep. Please, we don't want any trouble. _Please_."

The guards laughed and then finally waved them through the gate. The Adepts hurried into town and when the guards were finally out of earshot, Garet let out a sigh of relief. He then elbowed his friend on the side and spoke with a laugh:

"_You're_ an apprentice priest? Who took you in? I didn't hear from anyone in the brotherhood taking you under his wing."

"You think I'm not good enough to pass as an apprentice priest?" said Isaac, completely missing the joke.

Garet raised his hands defensively with a frown. He then suggested they go find the authorities and ask for help with the quest.

"Your dad and the templars delivered supplies to Vault when the crops failed years ago," said Garet. "If you tell them you're Captain Kyle's son, I'm sure they'll help us out."

Isaac winced at the mention of his father's name. He didn't seem to like the idea for some reason.

As they walked down the main street, Garet lifted his head and looked around, surprised that the town had expanded so much in a few years. Seven years ago, Vault wasn't much different from Vale. Now it had probably surpassed its northern neighbour in both population and development. What used to be an open marketplace had become a town plaza surrounded by many large timber-framed houses. A bell tower was in construction in the middle of the square, and the streets were crowded with busy citizens. The militia and mercenaries were gone, replaced with an organized watch. Garet counted the guards in view out of curiosity.

One, two, three, four, five, _six_ watchmen. It was a bit odd to see so many guards patrolling the streets among the farmers who'd set up shop here. Was crime really that much of a problem in the free cities?

"What are you doing?" said Isaac, standing a few paces further down the road and staring back at Garet with an annoyed look. "We don't have time for loitering."

"Right, _right_," replied Garet, looking around the streets again. Everything had changed—where did the mayor live now? "I'm trying to find someone to ask for directions."

Isaac threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes. After that, he rudely grabbed a random person off the streets and asked them where he could find the temple. The citizen jerked his arm away from Isaac, giving him a stare. He then pointed down the streets leading to the western side of the town, not even saying a word before leaving.

The temple was located at the outskirts of town. It was a simple dwelling made of wood—much simpler than the other buildings the Adepts had seen so far. The chapel and the ward were in the same room and it was all run by a lone priest. His long face was framed with dark brown curls and a full beard, and he introduced himself as Laurentius.

"Laresus?"

"You can call me Lars," said the priest, laughing after hearing the Adepts' mangling the pronunciation of his proper name.

Garet respectfully presented a writ from Harald to the priest. Lars looked at the parchment and raised an eyebrow. He took the scroll, broke the seal and read the first sentences, and then he rolled it up again.

"You should give this to the mayor," said Lars as he returned the writ to Garet. "I have no power here. No wait, give it to the _councilmen_."

"Councilmen? What about the mayor?" asked Garet.

"Mayor Greg has been busy lately. I don't think he's been in office for three days."

"Oh."

Right. It was easy to forget that the temples of Weyard were all run differently. The Order of Vale held absolute power in the village of Adepts. The men of the temple wrote and enforced the law and commanded the village's defences. They were responsible for education and the most powerful Adepts in Vale were either priests or templars.

Lars on the other hand wasn't much more than a pious person who took care of the sick. He didn't even have a seat in the town's council. He obviously had the blood of Adepts, but his Psynergy was incredibly weak. The temperature of an Adept's energy revealed their elemental alignment; Fire and Wind were warm elements while Earth and Water were cold. Garet's couldn't even feel Lars's flow of Psynergy when he healed the annoying insect bites on his face. He wondered how well the priest did when people came in with serious injuries or dire illnesses, but refrained from asking.

Afterwards, Lars directed them to the townhall near the plaza, and the Adepts hurried there in hopes of finding someone to aid them in their quest. It was long past midday when they arrived and they hadn't bought supplies or found a place to sleep yet. Even so, they had to wait half an hour outside the townhall until a scribe arrived to let them in. Garet explained he had an important message to the mayor. He pushed Harald's writ into the scribe's hands, begging him to bring it to someone who could assist them in catching the temple robbers and rescuing Jenna and Felix.

"Hah-ha…" The scribe chuckled softly, shaking his head and placing a hand on his forehead as he returned the writ to Garet after reading it. "I could try, but we're dealing with a bad case of thievery and abduction ourselves. Mayor Greg's focusing the resources on finding his youngest son, and the councilmen are trying to work out the rest of the town's problems after the huge cleanout days ago. I'll announce the bounty, but that's all I can do, I'm afraid."

Hearing that, Isaac turned around and began leaving. Garet followed, but after a while he asked Isaac what his plan was since he seemed so sure of what to do next.

"I'm going to the tavern," said Isaac with a tired voice.

"A _tavern__?_" Garet questioned his friend. "_Why__? _We should find the councilmen and convince them to help us!"

"Do whatever you want," said Isaac with a snort. "I'll go check for rumours and maybe find someone who _actually will help._"

"Well, what do you _think_ I'm doing?" asked Garet, gesturing towards the townhall. "I'm trying to get the authorities to help us!"

"They don't care," said Isaac evenly, turning away. He was about to leave when Garet grabbed his shoulder.

"Would you _listen__?_" said Garet.

"No, _you_ listen!" Isaac whirled around and yelled at his friend. "I'm done clowning around—"

"_Good!"_ Garet yelled back, finally fed up with his friend's inability to cooperate_. _"Because I'm tired of you acting like you're raised by _animals_! Where are your _manners_?"

"_Gone__!_" Isaac responded. "If no one's wants to help us then I'll just have to find Jenna on my own! I'll pay a mercenary!"

"You don't even _know_ if Felix and the thieves were here! What if they skipped town? If you just want to _play hero_, go back to the temple and _wait_instead. Aren't you done embarrassing yourself for today?"

Isaac flinched and stared at Garet for a moment, his cornflower eyes narrowing as he spoke.

"_Fine,_" said the friend finally, breathing out the word as he tempered his rage. "I'll go find a place for us to sleep, then. Meet up at the temple later."

As the Earth Adept turned around and began slowly stepping away, Garet rubbed his forehead and sighed. He then went back to the townhall and asked the scribe where he could find any of the councilmen. He said he needed to talk to them personally, because the temple robbers were really, _really_ dangerous and needed to be apprehended as soon as possible. Hearing that, the scribe furrowed his brow and named a few of the councilmen that might lend Garet an ear, wishing him good luck.

Garet spent the rest of the day searching for the councilmen, running from one side of town to the other, but he couldn't get hold of any of them. Against the scribe's advice, he resorted to seeking out the mayor himself. He thought himself lucky to catch the mayor returning home from his errands, but Mayor Greg didn't want to deal with visitors. When his wife mentioned that little Frederick still was missing, he went ballistic and began yelling about the watchmen's incompetence. His behaviour reminded Garet of how frightening Captain Kyle was when Isaac dragged Felix out to the woods and ended up lost for two days.

When Garet finally dragged his feet back to the temple, it was evening. He was hungry and tired and he hoped Isaac didn't do anything stupid while he was gone. When Lars told him Isaac hadn't returned at all, Garet couldn't believe his ears.

"Oh, for heaven's sake." He groaned and smacked his forehead with an open hand. "Lars, how many taverns are there in town? Which is the most popular one?"

"Yngve's tavern is the place to go."

"Thanks."

He made his way across town and back to the plaza, ending up at "The Jolly Huntsman", whose owner was a man named Yngve. The place seemed to be in the perfect spot for business—in the middle of town and on the most crowded street.

Garet entered the dark tavern searching for Isaac with keen eyes. The bard played his lute and sang his songs in the dim lamplight while the barmaids were busy serving the patrons. It wasn't hard to find Isaac with his outrageous getup. He stood in front of the bar holding two flagons. Garet's eyes flashed and he strode across the common room and grabbed his friend's shoulder, almost making Isaac spill the beverages.

"The _hell_ are you doing?" Garet hissed at his friend. "I was running all across town trying to find the councilmen while you're here _drinking__!_" He looked down at the flagons and then saw that it wasn't alcohol. "Uh… _milk__?_"

Isaac snorted and narrowed his eyes.

"Let me guess," said the Earth Adept, "you didn't get any help."

Garet cast a look around the room. There were all kinds of people in the tavern, but none he'd consider trustworthy.

"Well, what about _you_? Where's your shady mercenary? I bet you just found conartists trying to get your money." He poked Isaac's elaborate cuirass. "You don't exactly look inconspicuous with that getup, you know that?"

Isaac took a step back, glaring at Garet. Without saying a word, he pointed his beak of a nose towards a table in the corner of the common room. A stranger sat there, eating what looked like pea soup. He was just a boy, probably just eleven or twelve years old. He was fair-haired, but his complexion was darker than the average north Angaran's. His clothes were exquisite, made of velvet and silk and dyed in bright green and purples. That boy _had_ to be a young noble! He looked out of place in a tavern full of sweaty travellers and ill-mannered men. Suddenly, _Isaac_ seemed like the conartist in this scenario.

But then Garet saw it—the strong aura of Psynergy irradiating from the boy as he maintained a spell in silence. He was an Adept!

Isaac smiled triumphantly and then approached the little nobleman with sweeping strides.

Garet hesitantly stepped aside and took a seat at the table in front of Isaac and the boy. A barmaid approached him and asked what he wanted for a meal. To brush her off, he asked for the same thing the little nobleman was having. Garet couldn't take his eyes off the boy's face. He'd never seen a person outside Vale with Psynergy who wasn't a priest. Moreover, this kid obviously knew what he was doing. He maintained his spell even as he turned his head to look up towards Isaac, never losing concentration—a feat that indicated he was a young master.

Isaac drew out a chair and seated next to the boy, offering him one of the flagons of milk. The young Adept furrowed his brow, silently questioning Isaac's presence.

"So you're Ivan, right?" said Isaac with his fakest smile. "I heard you've got _strange powers_. Could you show me some of that?"

Garet cringed. Good job, Isaac, he thought. That's a way to start a conversation—make people uncomfortable by telling them you know their secrets. Didn't the idiot know that "sorcery" was outlawed in most societies?

"I'm not a fortune-teller," said the young Adept, clearly offended.

"You look a bit too young to be here alone," said Isaac. "How old are you?"

"That is not your concern," was the reply.

"Where are your parents?"

"Why don't you mind your own business?" The boy dropped his spoon and glared at the Earth Adept in irritation, surprising Isaac with his callous tone and the edge of his voice.

"I don't have time for this," said the little nobleman dryly. "I saw you stalking me earlier. You probably know I'm King Hammet's most trusted servant. I'm meeting my master's client here in a minute. Go bother someone else."

A servant? No way. A servant wouldn't wear that kind of clothes or have a gold ring on his finger. And why would the Merchant King of Kalay send a ten year old servant boy to a place like this alone to meet with his clients?

"I…" said Isaac, sounding intimidated by the young Adept's words. "I just wanted to—"

"If I interpret the situation correctly,_you_ came here to beg _me_ for help," said Ivan with a slight chuckle. "You're a peasant down on your luck and a foreigner in these lands."

Isaac lowered his head, looking extremely uncomfortable as he lifted his flagon of milk and drank nervously. He sat quietly for a moment, but then used Psynergy to pull Ivan's plate of food to his hand.

Garet held his breath and quickly cast a look around the tavern. The barmaid returned to his table, placing down his food and a flagon of ale, giving him a wink. He replied with a smile and a nod before turning his attention back to Isaac. It seemed like no one had noticed his show of power, but _Ivan_ must have seen the plate soar past his nose—What would he do?

The boy sat with his spoon in hand, staring at the table in silence. His eyebrows twitched. He seemed irritated and he probably was—he was an Adept too. Something like this couldn't possibly impress him.

"That is quite a secret to share with a complete stranger," said Ivan finally.

Isaac slowly put the plate back on the table and then gave the boy a firm nod.

"You have my attention," said the little nobleman, gently putting his spoon down. Moments ago, he confidently responded to Isaac with snide remarks. Now, he quietly played with the golden ring on the index finger of his left hand. Isaac didn't know how to continue with the conversation either so both Adepts sat there in silence. Ivan never stopped casting Psynergy though, which made Garet wonder what spell that really was—the child wasn't levitating stuff or making unnatural things happen.

"Yes," Ivan finally spoke. "I do have strange powers. So, Isaac, what more did the innkeeper tell you about me?"

Wait, how did he know Isaac's name? Garet didn't hear his friend introduce himself to the boy.

"He said you were a lord's favourite servant," said Isaac. "He said you could easily come in contact with the mayor. Yeah, he also said you had strange powers."

How the hell did he know Isaac's name? Did Isaac converse with him earlier? Garet couldn't let this detail slide.

"I lost my village's treasure," said Isaac, giving Ivan a sad look. "It was stolen by thieves... I can't go home until I recover the temple's relics."

Suddenly, Ivan stopped turning his ring.

"On top of that, they kidnapped my friend," Isaac continued. "She means a lot to me, and I don't even know what things they might be doing to her."

"That's… unfortunate," said Ivan, sounding less guarded now. "I'm in a similar situation. My fa—I mean, I lost my _master's_ prized possession, and that's why I'm stuck in this town too."

Isaac looked dejected.

"Tell me where you come from," said the boy.

"Vale," replied Isaac.

"Vale," repeated Ivan with a slight smile. "I see. You're a _refugee_."

Isaac looked at the little nobleman in confusion.

"Everyone knows about the eruption," said the boy. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Heh. No, the village's safe." Isaac lowered his voice and then whispered: "We Adepts can handle ourselves."

"Adepts?"

"Sorcerers, wizards—whatever people call us nowadays."

"You're telling me there are more of you—I mean, of _us_, in Vale?"

"Of course. Don't you know everyone in Vale is an Adept?"

Ivan slowly looked away.

"No," he whispered. "_No_, I did not know that."

Isaac smiled gently and lifted his hand, reaching out towards the boy, but Ivan quickly bounced away before Isaac could touch his shoulder and stared at him with a judging look.

"Sorry…" said Isaac.

After that awkward moment, Ivan cleared his throat and led the conversation on to other subjects. They talked for what felt like hours. Garet finished his meal while watching Isaac trying his hardest to befriend the young Adept.

Isaac empathized on the things he and Ivan had in common. His hands moved all the time and he repeatedly tried to reach out to the boy physically. He couldn't stop saying Ivan's name. He sounded pathetic and desperate, as if he was willing to offer all of himself for Ivan's smile:

My father had high expectations too, Ivan. I didn't live up to his expectations either, Ivan. Yes, Ivan, I had trouble fitting in too. I feel lost in this town too, Ivan. No, Ivan, I don't think you're a freak. Ivan, if you're a freak, then I am a freak too…

Despite Isaac's theatrics, Ivan took the bait. He smiled when Isaac told him things about Vale and he laughed at all of Isaac's bad jokes. He began staring at Isaac's face, mesmerized. Finally, _he_ reached out to Isaac, putting his hand on the Earth Adept's forearm. And that simple touch changed everything.

Suddenly, Isaac stopped babbling. His eyes grew wide, his stupid grin instantly disappeared, and he stood up rigidly. As Ivan let go of his arm in confusion, Isaac searched the room with his gaze, as if he'd just heard someone plotting his death.

"What is it?" asked the little nobleman, and his voice sounded _a lot_ gentler now—worried even. In fact, he finally started sounding like a child.

Isaac gasped for breath. He looked back at the boy, swallowing and tugging at his scarf to loosen the knot.

"N-no," said Isaac with an uncomfortable smile. He began stammering. "I-It's was just my imagination. I thought I heard… N-no… I—"

Isaac cast a look towards Garet on the other table, begging for advice. Garet had no idea what was going on and simply shrugged with a confused expression.

"I-I need to go!" said Isaac. "It was nice meeting you, Ivan. Good luck finding your treasure."

He turned around to leave, but Ivan suddenly grabbed his wrist and Isaac froze as if he had just been possessed again. Finally, Ivan ceased that spell he'd rigorously maintained during the entire conversation. The boy then gently tugged Isaac's arm, telling him to calm down and sit. And Isaac obeyed, just like that.

Garet pressed his palms against the table in alarm. Something was horribly wrong. His worry increased when Isaac put his hands against the sides of his face like a frightened child and mumbled about needing to be exorcised. The boy looped his arms around Isaac's torso, gently asking him to tell him what was wrong.

"Voices…" whispered Isaac. "I heard a hundred voices in my head. I-I need to see a priest, a healer, a—"

"No, Isaac," Ivan spoke softly. "It's all right… You're not crazy. It's just me…"

"Y-you?"

"Yes, _me_." The boy affectionately stroked Isaac's upper arms. The fact that Ivan was suddenly being sweet only raised Garet's suspicion.

He left a silver coin for the food on his table and then strode over to Isaac, grabbing the Earth Adept's arm and pulling him away from the strange child.

"What spell did you cast on him?" said Garet, quietly enough to not alert anyone else in the tavern. He shot the boy a glare.

Ivan's innocently concerned expression faded, and just for half a second he donned that stern face with the cold stare again. He looked just like a wilful child whose toy had been taken away from him. Did his eyes actually have that strange violet colour? Or did they only look this way in this dimly lit environment?

"I know you did something to him," said Garet, staring the boy down, but upon seeing Isaac's confounded expression he decided not to linger here. "Isaac, let's go back to the temple."

The other Adept nodded silently with a blank face. He followed when Garet pulled him up from his seat, but Ivan grabbed Isaac's other hand.

"Don't go," said the boy, pleading. His expression changed from anger to sadness so quickly that Garet didn't know what to think about him. "Isaac, please hear me out!"

"Isaac, _no_." Garet shook his head, giving his friend s serious look. Something was wrong with Ivan—there was something extremely creepy about this child.

"Isaac, _please__,_" said Ivan desperately. His theatrics didn't affect Garet, but Isaac was moved and looked back.

"Isaac!" Garet yanked at Isaac's arm, telling him to leave, but the friend didn't budge.

Ivan dropped to his knees.

"This is the bards in the woods all over again!" said Garet. His gaze darted back and forth around the room. This could be a trap. He cursed inwardly as some of the other patrons began giving him odd looks. Were they Ivan's accomplices waiting for a sign to strike or just strangers curious about what was going on?

Ivan pathetically moved over to Isaac on his knees. He grabbed the end of Isaac's tunic and pressed his cheek against the side of his thigh. He whispered something and after that, all was lost.

With a shudder, Isaac pulled himself free from Garet's hold. He squatted to Ivan's level and took the child in his arms.

"Don't cry, Ivan," Isaac shushed the younger Adept, once again enthralled. "I'll listen… I'll listen."

Ivan shook his head. His hands flew up to cover his face and his shoulders scrunched up and quivered. He snivelled and pointed up towards Garet with an apprehensive expression; his violet eyes filled with tears.

"He's my friend," said Isaac, stroking the sides of Ivan's arms comfortingly. "He's an Adept too, don't be scared. Tell us what's wrong. We'll listen."

And Ivan quietly explained. He said he'd been lying. He wasn't Hammet's servant—he was his adoptive son—he assumed a false identity for his own safety.

Of course, thought Garet. The ring, the silk and the premium colours were dead give-aways.

"The lost artefact is true though…" Ivan whimpered, closing his small hands around Isaac's dark-blue tunic. "Father was so angry. He said he'll disown me if I can't get it back. I… I'm so lonely. I'm so scared. Everyone thinks I'm a freak. You… you're the only one who cares, Isaac. You're the only one who can help."

Isaac gently stroked the sides of the child's arms again. He then promised he'll help Ivan look for Hammet's treasure so that the boy could go home.

"No!" said Garet. When he realized he was drawing attention with the level of his voice, he quickly squatted to Isaac and Ivan's level and whispered: "Isaac, don't you see how wrong this entire situation is?"

He reminded his friend of Ivan's apathy earlier and that his sudden trust is too questionable. He also asked how Isaac could trust someone who openly admitted he'd just lied to him.

Ivan lowered his head towards Isaac's chest, his shoulders quivering. He looked like a frightened child, but Garet couldn't forget the way he'd glowered at him with those eerie violet eyes earlier.

"You're scaring him," hissed Isaac.

"No,_he_ is scaring _me__!_" said Garet. "Don't you think it's fishy he knows your name? You never even mentioned your name once!"

Isaac tucked Ivan's small frame away in his embrace.

"I introduced myself," said Isaac, but his wavering look betrayed the lie.

"No, you_ didn't_," Garet shot back. "His spell did something to your head. We need to leave. _Now__._"

Isaac froze at the mention of a spell. He then slowly averted his eyes, _finally_ thinking rationally again. Slowly, he began releasing Ivan, but he couldn't bring himself to let go completely without intervention. When Garet pulled Isaac up from the floor, the boy finally whispered:

"Yes. You got me, Garet. Yes, you're right; I know your names and much more about you."

As Ivan stood up, his aura of Psynergy glowed again. Garet pulled Isaac behind him. He scanned the tavern for enemies. This had to be some sort of set up.

"No, I came here alone, Garet," said Ivan, sounding dejected. "It's not a trap."

Garet winced. He didn't like his name in Ivan's mouth, especially when he didn't know from where he got it.

"I have my ways," whispered Ivan ruefully.

Garet's eyes narrowed as he studied the boy's expression and his hand wandered towards the hilt of his sword. He couldn't gauge this kid's intentions; Ivan sounded so sad and heartbroken that it made Garet feel like a bully, but his words were _poison_.

"Look… I won't burden you for nothing. I'll pay you for your troubles; handsomely."

"W-we're not mercenaries," said Garet.

"I'm on good terms with Mayor Greg," offered Ivan. "You need help getting the authorities' attention, right? If you help me recover my lost heirloom, I'll convince the mayor to lend you a hand, _I promise_."

Garet tapped Isaac's shoulder and pointed towards the exit. This time, Isaac nodded and turned away from the boy without a second thought. Just then, Ivan reached out and grabbed their wrists.

A hundred voices suddenly invaded Garet's mind; whispers, laughs, threats, shouting, flirting, cheerful singing; all kinds of voices saying all sorts of things. He couldn't make out what was going on. The sounds were too close to his ears and his head had never felt so heavy before. Desperately, he swiped his hand, pulling himself free from Ivan's grip and out of the sea of voices. The singing minstrel and the nearby patrons were a calming serenade to his ears after that horrible experience.

Garet looked towards Isaac. Ivan was holding his hand still, and judging from the Earth Adept's frightened expression, Isaac was still being subjected to the torture. But before Garet could do anything about it, Ivan stopped using Psynergy. The friend staggered back, shaking in fear and searching for something to lean against and it ended up being Ivan.

"I have this power to hear people's thoughts," Ivan whispered, gently hugging Isaac's arm. He sounded sweet and affectionate, but Garet only found his behaviour disturbing. "I call it Mindread," said Ivan. "It's quite useful, you see. This is how I figured out your names."

Garet held his breath. Yes, there were certain Adepts that could read minds. They were called "telepaths" and they were usually spies and agents.

"I didn't know my powers could be shared with a touch," Ivan continued with a faint smile that looked more creepy than reassuring. "This has never happened before. I suppose it only works between sorcerers."

"Does my power frighten you?" he then asked, looking at Isaac's unresponsive face. Isaac rigidly pulled away from the boy, which seemed to surprise the young aristocrat.

"If it bothers you, I can promise I won't use my powers on you again," said Ivan. He tried reaching out for Isaac again but the Earth Adept slapped his hand away. This seemed to upset the boy as his hands fell to his sides and balled up to fists.

"You're sorcerers too…" said Ivan bitterly, "but you won't understand how it is to be me. You live among your kind, but I, I am nothing without my father… A little kindness goes a long way."

Garet held his breath. He wasn't normally intimidated by children, but Ivan was definitely not a person to be trifled with. Again, the boy used Psynergy to read their minds.

"Sorry," said Garet, trying his best not to offend the little nobleman, "we have our own problems to take care of. Besides, you're a telepath and have connections. What can lowly peasants like us do that the authorities can't do better?"

"Only you know I am a 'little nobleman'," whispered Ivan as he stopped using Mindread. "To everyone else, I am just a valet. I'm not supposed to reveal my identity, but I trust you because you're _Adepts_. Yes, I can find information with ease, but Mindread cannot act as evidence to force an arrest. They won't arrest someone just because I say something is true. I wouldn't come here looking for sellswords if I didn't have to."

"We're not sellswords," said Garet as it became obvious that Ivan wanted to rope them into something _illegal_. Besides, if the authorities won't help _Ivan_, how was he supposed to convince them to help Garet and Isaac? This entire deal reeked of nonsense.

"How much do you want?" asked Ivan with a huff. "Does fifty silver sound good?"

"We're _not_ mercenaries," repeated Isaac, suddenly staring at the boy with disgust. He then turned around and began leaving and Garet followed him closely behind; none of them wanted anything to do with this child.

"Name your price," said the telepath evenly. "_Everyone_ has a price."

Isaac flinched for a moment and then and replied:

"Two hundred."

"Deal."

"_Isaac__!_" called Garet, but the Earth Adept grabbed Ivan's wrist and pulled him towards the exit of the tavern.

"If he wants to pay a fortune, I won't be ashamed to take advantage of it," said Isaac.

"I thought so," said the telepath with a bitter smile, sounding more disappointed than content. "Everyone has a price—even '_Adepts'._"

Isaac led the boy out of the tavern, but as soon they were outside, he grabbed Ivan's high collar and dragged him around the corner of the street and into an alley, shoving the boy up against the wall.

"Listen," said Isaac, speaking in a low voice as he menacingly leant over the boy. "I don't know what you're trying, but if you don't want me to give away your little secret, _forget_ we met today."

Garet cast a look towards the open street. People walked past every second, but no one seemed to notice what was going on here. It was either that or they didn't care. If this happened in Vale, Isaac would've been dragged out and punished already.

"Enough," said Garet, tapping Isaac's shoulder, "let's leave."

Isaac nodded, but when he turned away from Ivan, the boy suddenly shoved _Isaac_ up against the wall. The telepath was small, but he wasn't less aggressive than Isaac:

"I'm not a spy!" hissed Ivan. "How can I prove that to you?"

Isaac glared back at the boy, stepping away from the wall and rubbing his elbows.

"You've got _nothing_ of value for me to steal," said Ivan unflinchingly, shoving Isaac against the wall again. It seemed a bit weird that he had the Earth Adept cornered and was threatening him, but still had to look up to meet Isaac's gaze. "How can you call me a spy when _you_ sought me out and tried manipulating _me_ into helping you _first__?_"

"Let's just say I was stupid," replied Isaac. He then pushed Ivan away, sending him stumbling backwards. "And don't push me again," he warned, pointing at the boy meaningfully. "I'm giving you a chance to walk away now. I can overpower a nasty kid easily—and the fact that you're an Adept won't matter."

Ivan clenched his fists. He drew a deep breath, staring at Isaac for almost half a minute without saying anything. When he finally spun around and ran away, Garet couldn't help wondering if the little nobleman wouldn't make them pay for this later.

"Was that necessary?" asked Garet, gesturing towards the open street. "He looked like the vindictive kind… what if he tries getting back at us?"

Isaac checked his coin pouch. At first he seemed unaffected by the statement, but after a moment he gasped and began staring straight forward with empty eyes.

"Uh, Isaac?"

"I'm a moron," Isaac hastily whispered and his gaze began to wander. "I-I'm an _idiot_."

"Well, everyone makes mistakes," said Garet. "The important thing is that you realize—"

"_No_, I'll fix this," responded Isaac hastily. He shoved his coin pouch into Garet's hands and before the Fire Adept could even ask what was going on, Isaac spun around and ran away. "Meet up at the north gate. If I'm not there by sunset, _leave without me!_"

"_Wait—__what_? Where are you going?" Garet took up the chase and hurried out of the alley but Isaac had already vanished without a trace.

Garet ran down the streets, calling Isaac's name. He wrenched his hands. He kicked the ground in frustration. How could they possibly get the Elemental Stars back if Isaac _kept_ running off and causing trouble?

* * *

Garet couldn't do much about Isaac's reckless tendencies, but he wasn't going to wait around while Isaac was elsewhere making a fool of himself. He was heading back to the townhall when a short middle-aged man with a long nose and a cane greeted him as a Valian templar.

"Do I know you? Sir?" said Garet.

"Forgive me, I'm Jonas, councilman," said the man. "I couldn't help noticing your uniform. You're one of the templars of Vale, aren't you? How's Captain Kyle?"

Jonas? Yes, Garet had met this person before. Seven years ago he was just a poor craftsman waiting in line when the templars handed out baskets of food to the starving townsfolk. Someone had punched him and tried stealing his rations. Isaac's father stopped the assailant and Garet had personally led him to the back of the carriage to get treatment for the broken nose. He'd thanked the Valians while still clutching his basket, saying he had a starving daughter at home.

"Captain Kyle died on duty three years ago in the storm," said Garet.

"Ah, shame…" replied Jonas with a sigh. "Such is the life of a hero. I would've wanted to thank him myself and buy him a drink this time. If it hadn't been for those bread-baskets years ago… Ah, you Valians saved a lot of people that day…"

Jonas then proceeded to ask how things were in Vale, mentioning the eruption of Mount Aleph.

"The village is safe," said Garet. "The… the Saints protect us."

"Faith is strong in the north, I see," Jonas commented with a smile. He then withdrew a small glass vial from his belt pouch. It was filled with some kind of grainy powder that shimmered in a pale violet tint.

"This fell from the skies after the eruption," said Jonas. "We evacuated for safety, but when we returned to clean up, most of this… _dust_ had vanished without a trace. Do you know anything about this?"

Garet took the vial and looked at the dust. Could this have come from Aleph? Wasn't the entire mountain encased with a magic barrier? Realizing that even the Wise One and the Saints weren't all-powerful, Garet felt guiltier about his involvement with Sol Sanctum. What impact could the eruption have on the rest of the world? He then looked towards the northern skies and wondered if the village was truly safe after all.

"This is dust of Psynergy crystals," said Garet, although he wasn't even sure if Jonas understood what he meant. "In short, our healers use whole crystals for their invigorating properties. Dust is useless though."

He then took the chance to explain that he'd been sent by Harald to hunt down thieves, showing Jonas the high priest's writ. The councilman opened the scroll and read it, quietly nodding in understanding.

"Well then," said Jonas, "It seems like we should visit the barracks. See if we can find any records of the lowlifes who stole your temple's relics."

"And kidnapped my friends," Garet added quietly.

"Your friends?"

"Yes, two of my friends were kidnapped during the raid. I guess Harald didn't write that down, huh?"

"He didn't, but this information might prove useful," said Jonas. "It's easier to find people than lost trinkets."

They headed back to the plaza since the barracks were located north of the town hall. It was a fairly large building made of wood and stone and a few guards were assembling outside. It seemed like something unfortunate had happened in town again.

"Has the mayor returned?" asked Jonas.

"He has, but Frederick's still missing," replied one of the guards.

"Nevermind then," sighed Jonas. He led the way into the guard captain's office and grabbed a heavy tome from the shelf. Dropping it on the desk, he began flipping through the pages.

Garet peeked over Jonas's shoulder.

There were notes on farmers fighting over a sack of spilt grain from last week. Two merchants from Bilibin had fought outside the north gate and disrupted the queue. The Merchant King's caravan had passed through. A drunkard was arrested. A man got ran over by a carriage. An arsonist was kicked out of town. Fights. More fights. Merchant King's caravan left.

Garet shook his head. Unless the thieves had caused trouble in town, they wouldn't be on the records.

"Could they have fenced their goods?" said Jonas.

True, if these thieves just came to Vale for riches, they would fence the Elemental Stars. Why didn't he think of this at the beginning?

"There's a certain broker in town who usually doesn't ask questions about the goods he receives…" Jonas then told him. "Let's pay him a visit."

The broker's name was Trevor and he ran his shop in one of the less populated areas in the west. Garet wondered if the tradesman chose this location deliberately since the area seemed underdeveloped compared to the rest of the city. But then, what did _he_ know about business?

Jonas stepped up to the last building at the street, opening the door and entering. Garet followed him in. The broker was a middle-aged man with brown curls, grey eyes and a long face. He was writing with his quill in an open book and lowered his glasses when the doorbell rang. Trevor gave Jonas a nod and put the quill away, entwining his fingers on the counter as he curtly asked:

"What brings the councilman to my humble dwelling today?"

"Investigation, old friend," replied Jonas. "Anything suspicious turning up lately?"

Trevor cleared his throat with a slight cough.

"Looking for anything _specific__?_"

Jonas cast a look towards Garet.

"Go on. Tell him what you're looking for."

"Oh! Uh… There were some jewels stolen from my village—"

Before he could finish, Trevor dove under the counter and retrieved a tray full of labelled jewellery; rings, armlets, necklaces, earrings… Of course, this wasn't what Garet was looking for. He was about to say this was another detour, but then he saw a silvery armlet that looked familiar. It was formed like a twisted band of grass, crude and not particularly pleasing to the eye. He took the tin armlet and looked on the inside to check for a signature of sorts. Yep, this was Kay's handiwork.

"This was Jenna's," said Garet, speaking to Jonas. "This belonged to the girl who was kidnapped from Vale. My sister made this for her."

Trevor looked at the armlet.

"That one? A snooty girl and a boy sold that to me." The broker picked out a few other armlets and rings from the bunch. "This, this, this, and this too."

Garet didn't recognize the other jewellery. It didn't seem like anything Jenna would wear, the armlets were broad and clunky for her and the rings seemed too big for her fingers. Were the thieves using Jenna to fence their goods?

"Tell us what you know about this girl and boy," said Jonas.

"Girl; red hair, dark eyes, pink dress. Boy; dark hair, dark eyes, green cloak," replied Trevor and shrugged. "Both equally dirty. Seemed like a pair of runaway lovers. The girl seemed to just want quick money. Didn't even haggle."

"Can you describe the boy a bit more?" asked Garet.

"This tall perhaps…" Trevor raised his hand to illustrate. "Dark long hair. Tattered cloak. I think she called him… Fel… _Felix_."

"It's him," Garet whispered for himself. A hesitant smile appeared on his face, and a breathy laughter escaped his lips. "It's _them_." They were alive. Jenna and Felix were alive. And they were here. In Vault. They might _still_ be here.

"Wh-when did they visit?" he then asked. He couldn't wait to see Jenna and Felix again.

"Yesterday evening," replied Trevor.

Garet's smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared and he dropped the cheap armlet on the counter. Yesterday. The thieves probably wouldn't stay in town very long unless they were residents. If they didn't pawn the Elementals Stars off here, they would hurry to the next best city to fence the goods. He had to leave the town and go after them now. He couldn't forget Felix's helpless face and Jenna's desperate cries in Sol Sanctum. He couldn't trust the temple robbers to not hurt Felix or Jenna—not after they stabbed Felix in the chest like it was nothing.

"Ask for these people at the gates," said Jonas, "guard duty has been very strict these days." He borrowed some ink and paper from Trevor, scribbled down a few sentences and then handed the note to Garet.

"Give this to the guards and they will assist you."

Garet took the note and hastily went for the door, almost forgetting to thank Jonas for the help. He stopped, turned back and gave the councilman his words of gratitude, to which Jonas replied:

"Vale sent us aid in times of need, this is the least I can do for you."

By the time Garet arrived at the east gate, the sun was setting. He approached the guards at the gate and gave them the councilman's note. He asked about a pair matching Jenna and Felix's looks, but the watchmen said a lot of people dressed in pink and green and had red and brown hair.

"What about some odd-looking tribesmen with strange markings on their faces?" asked Garet.

The guards burst out in laughter and complimented Garet's imagination.

"I'm _serious!_" Garet shouted at the guards. He didn't have to take this. Just then, a watchman taking over shift suddenly recognized him and called out:

"_Hey, monk!_"

It was the young black-bearded guard who'd mocked Isaac at the north gate. Garet rubbed his temples, hoping this fool would have something useful to tell him this time.

"I saw a loony girl _this morning__at the north gate_! She assaulted a priest and tried attacking me too! She fits your description quite well and was _dragging_ this horsefaced lad after her."

Garet stared at the guard, not sure if he was being tricked.

"When did they leave?" he asked, just to be sure.

"This morning. Ah yes, about two hours before you arrived."

"Where did they go?"

"North, I think. The girl was very loud about dragging this boy home when we kicked them out."

North… That's it. Jenna was free. She had outsmarted the thieves. Why else would the guards not mention the strange-looking bandits? Jenna had escaped with Felix. She was heading north, heading home to Vale… That's wonderful! This was great news! He could go home now! He had to tell Isaac about this!

No, wait. That still left him with the search for the Elemental Stars. The thieves skipped town. Where could they have gone? He had to rework his plan. Actually, there was no plan. He volunteered for this quest blindly because his conscience told him he was just as guilty as Isaac was for the theft of the Stars.

Isaac. Where was Isaac? Where did the idiot go? The gate. The north gate!

Garet ran back to the other gate as fast as possible but the Earth Adept wasn't there. Minutes passed, an hour maybe. People came and people left; people entered and exited the gate. Isaac said he'd be here at sunset. It was nightfall now! Garet paced back and forth in front of the wall, trying to figure out what could possibly be so important for Isaac to ditch him like this.

He tried thinking of places where Isaac could have run off too. The town hall? The temple? The tavern? The barracks? After the long detour to all those places, it was dark, and too late to leave town. Garet kicked the ground. Where could Isaac be? Had he caused trouble and been arrested? No, if he was arrested the guards in the barracks would have told him so. What if he was in danger? Impossible. He was an Adept. There was no way ordinary people could jump him. But what if he was tricked?

Garet froze. He remembered the boy who deceived Isaac earlier. That boy was an Adept too. He could read minds. And he was very insisting on pulling Isaac away for a dubious favour. He was potentially a spy too. This wasn't too far-fetched of an idea; Ivan only found interest in Isaac after finding out he was a Valian Adept. Yes, Isaac could be in danger and Garet had to get back to the barracks and report his disappearance.

Suddenly, the sound of someone being harassed by guards caught his attention and he recognized his foolish friend's voice. Turning around, Garet could see Isaac was indeed together with the little nobleman from earlier. They were holding hands and Isaac seemed protective of the boy for some reason. The guards told them to move along; maybe Isaac didn't look as suspicious when he was paired with someone wearing equally bright colours as him. Either way, Isaac had _a lot_ of explaining to do.

Garet stepped up to his friend and angrily grabbed his shoulder. Isaac jerked away, his hand immediately flying towards the hilt of his sword. Garet ignited the air above his fingertips like a torch.

"It's _me_, you moron!" he told Isaac, gnashing his teeth. "_Where_ have you been? And… _him_," he then pointed at Ivan with his other hand, "what are you doing here with _him_?"

Ivan whimpered pathetically, scrunching his shoulders and hid behind Isaac. He was shaking, but Garet was convinced it was all acting again. Wait, what's that large bruise on his cheek? Garet's slowly turned his look to Isaac's face.

_Seriously__?_

"I don't have time for this," stated Isaac, taking Ivan's hand and beginning to lead the boy away. "This is none of your business."

"It's my business if you're sneaking around at night with _this_ child! And what do you think you're _doing?_" He took a step towards Ivan and grabbed the boy's arm. "Did you really beat up a child?"

"_Isaac!_" Ivan let out a high pitched cry and tore himself free from Garet, running back to the Earth Adept and throwing his arms around Isaac's torso.

The friend gently pulled the boy away. In the firelight, he too noticed the bruise on Ivan's face and quickly used his Psynergy to heal the wounds. Ivan sniffled, and Isaac ruffled his hair, giving him a tender smile.

"_Oh_, so you're _friends_ again?" said Garet, gradually raising his voice. "Why the _magical_ change of heart, Isaac? Didn't you want _nothing_ to do with him_ just a few hours ago__?_"

"Just stay out of this!" Isaac yelled back.

"Are you going to tell me the same thing _after_ you've been arrested for whatever crime you're about to commit?" asked Garet behind clenched teeth.

"Is that how you think of me?"

"I've known you since we were children! I can tell whenever you're up to no good!" Garet grabbed the knot of Isaac's scarf. He could put up with Isaac's smugness in Vale, but not here—and not _now_. "You better be honest or I'll clock you on the head and drag you back to Vale. You're not causing any more trouble under my watch."

"I'm going to help Ivan recover his heirloom," said Isaac, quickly jerking his elbow up and breaking free from Garet's grasp. "I know the thieves hid it somewhere in The Golden Goose Inn."

Garet stared back at his friend and slowly took a deep breath.

"And how did you know that?" He yelled at his foolish friend again. "Because this kid told you so?" He pointed at Ivan. "Have you learnt _nothing_ from Sol Sanctum? Let the authorities deal with it! I have information about Jenna and Felix! They left Vault this morning!"

Isaac flinched at the mention of their friends. He looked hesitant for a moment, seemingly rethinking his foolish decision while still clutching Ivan's small hand. But then his gaze suddenly flicked to look over Garet's shoulder and his eyes grew wide. Garet quickly snuffed out his flame and lowered his hand. He was about to turn around but Isaac swept aside, pulling both Garet and Ivan with him to the side of the road.

"What—?"

"_Shh__!_"

Isaac pointed towards the nearby building at the end of the streets where two men passed with a lantern, seemingly walking back and forth for no reason. After a while, they put out their light source and seemingly scurried off somewhere unknown.

"Stay here," said Isaac, looking back at Ivan, but the boy followed Isaac down the street anyway.

Garet growled in frustration, weighing his options of alerting the city's watch or not, but finally decided he couldn't let Isaac out of his sight for a minute. Catching up with the idiot, he found Isaac about to climb up on a ladder leading up the roof of the building.

"You can't be serious," said Garet, grabbing Isaac's foot, but the friend kicked his hand away, being committed to whatever he was about to do.

It was clearly a time to scream and alert the guards, but as Isaac vanished into a hole in the roof, Garet reconsidered. If Isaac got caught breaking into someone's home, they'll probably be stuck here in Vault even longer.

When even Ivan climbed up on the ladder, Garet cursed in resignation and went up there too. He fumbled after the hole for a while before slipping through the straw roof. His boots crashed against the wooden floor with a loud _bang! _There wasn't much to see here since this was obviously storage space full of crates and barrels. This was a bad idea, but if it was a trap, two Adepts were better than one. He extended his fingers, conjuring a flame to light up the darkness but Isaac's gloved hand suddenly came down on the fire, snuffing it out. The dust in the attic tickled Garet's nose and he heard someone else's footsteps in the room.

"_Who's there?_" questioned a gruff voice, distinctly male.

A light appeared from the right side of the room behind stacked crates, and men armed with swords cast long shadows on the floor. Ivan gasped and timidly gripped Isaac's arm, hugging it tightly. Even now, Garet couldn't tell if the boy and whoever in here were in cahoots or not.

Garet clutched the grip of his sword and signed with his free hand to Isaac to be careful, but it was useless—Isaac wasn't even looking. The Earth Adept backed into the shadows, holding Ivan close. Garet couldn't see the men's faces clearly in the lamplight, but they didn't look like brigands or highwaymen; they were clean and decently dressed—What if they were the owners of this place?

"_Now_," said Isaac.

"_Wind!_" yelled Ivan.

"What—?"

Before the enemies could react, barrels and crates were launched towards their faces. Their lantern smashed against the floor and everything turned dark, save for the faint moonlight from the opening in the roof. Isaac immediately leapt into combat with his sword brandished.

"_Lightning, strike!_" Ivan yelled, and the ceiling suddenly exploded in a loud _ka-boom! _Wood and straw burst in flames and Garet shouted at the boy:

"_What_ _are you doing?_"

The three nameless men engaging Isaac quickly broke away from the fight, backing away as the flames rapidly spread to the rest of the room. In the firelight, Garet recognized the bastards—these were the "bards" from the forest!

Isaac took a step back and lowered his sword. His mouth hung open and he stared straight up towards the fire in terror. Bernard—if that even was his name—tried taking advantage of his moment of weakness, but Garet tackled the brigand before he could run Isaac through with a blade. The friend sunk to his knees on the floor, shaking in fear as the flames continued to spread. The thieves scrambled away, grabbing their bags and trying to find a way out of the inferno.

Garet focused his mind. He used his Psynergy and tried taking control of the fire. The flames flickered and then grew smaller, responding to his commands. But as he choked on the smoke, his spell wavered and the plumes of flame expanded again.

"Ivan!" said Isaac, beginning to cough too. "Get rid of the smoke! Summon a wind!"

"_Wind!_" called Ivan desperately, but nothing happened.

The wooden beams supporting the roof began collapsing and Ivan screamed in terror. A yellow light flashed from Isaac's hands and a volley of stone arrows soared through the air. What came after that, were the thieves' cries of anguish.

"_Garet!_ Do something!" said Isaac.

Garet focused his mind again and drew upon his Psynergy. He willed the flames smaller, and they obeyed his command once more. Even as it became hard to breathe, he closed his eyes and sustained. His arms felt heavy, and he began feeling dizzy as his Psynergy was being drained, but he didn't stop until the flames were gone. After that strenuous feat, he staggered back and slumped down on the floor, pressing his hands over his mouth. Ivan tried his spell one more time and finally cleared most of the smoke with a gust of wind.

There was commotion downstairs. Garet could hear banging on the floor and finally someone bashed the locked trap-door in. Half a dozen guards came up to the attic and the first thing they found were the thieves lying near the entrance of the door writhing in pain and bleeding from Isaac's nasty spell.

"_Thieves!_" said one of the crooks, pointing at Isaac. "It's the thieves everyone's been looking for!"

"Save us!" Bernard filled in, grabbing the guard captain's foot. "We found their hide-out and they tried to kill us!"

Garet wanted to interject, but he couldn't stop coughing.

"What? _Lies!_" yelled Isaac. He stood up, but was promptly apprehended by two guards who forced him down on his knees. "Let me go! _They_ are the thieves!"

"Quiet, you!" said the guards and kicked Isaac on the side, threatening with more violence if he didn't stay put.

Someone called for a healer and the rest of the guards looked around the area. The guard captain then emerged from the back of the attic, carrying an unconscious boy with chestnut hair. The two guards watching over Garet and Isaac recognized the victim:

"_Frederick_?"

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

Everyone except for the heroes is utterly helpless in the game for gameplay reasons, but how does a world even function with that level of incompetence?

This chapter pretty much introduces the world outside of Vale. All societies have rules and laws that need to be obeyed, and being a dick won't net you a lot of help. When I built the main characters' profiles I listed a lot of attributes like how good they are in a fight and how much experience they have surviving in the wild. One important attribute is something I chose to call "prestige". This is basically their reputation and social standing.

Here in the beginning, Garet, who's a templar of Vale, has higher prestige than Isaac. He will generally find it easier to get people to help him since people tend to trust you if you come from a reputable order and are apparently a pious and righteous man. Isaac is starting off much worse since he is pretty much just a nameless peasant.

"The bards in the woods" is pretty much my way of taking away their stuff. I don't want them to breeze through everything when Felix's team struggles, because they would obviously just catch up to Felix if they did, but I also don't want to give an impression of that the village is sending them off with nothing. This event both serves to take away their stuff and to establish some of Isaac and Garet's character traits.

Some people might think I swapped Garet and Isaac's personalities since Garet is more level-headed and Isaac is being kind of a dick. I'll just say that their in-game counterparts are pretty much one-dimensional cardboard cutouts, and they don't make interesting characters in a story. Let's face it: Isaac is a blank slate and Garet's sole reason of existing is just to make Isaac look good in comparison (depending on player dialogue choices).

I don't want to go overboard explaining every single thing the characters do since I believe readers who'd stuck around this far can figure things out themselves, so I'll just make this short:

All characters have been given extensive backstory and personality traits, and they will without a doubt act differently from their game counterparts. They are different people with their own goals and wishes and personal struggles. And I know I'm repeating myself, but I'm writing people, not archetypes. If you want to see Isaac making all the right choices and being a hero right off the bat and Garet being the unfunny sidekick; sorry, this is not that kind of story.

Consider this… alternative character interpretation.

Sadly, I can't talk about Ivan's characterization without going into spoiler territory.


	5. – Coward

**W**arm sunlight gilded the Angaran forests. It was the beginning of August and an evening breeze rustled through the red and yellow leaves.

In a forest clearing, a young man twirled a sword with his ragged cape and brown hair sweeping about him. He performed several spins and thrusts in succession, and a red leaf fell from the maple tree as he finished the dance and freezes in place with his sword held aloft.

Felix shook his head, his world was spinning even though his body stood still. The rapier weighted heavily in his hand and he could barely hold it for another second. He broke his stance, dropping his sword. He sunk to his knees on the ground, his head hanging low. Tears stung his eyes and he blinked hard, unable to tell whether they were due to lack of sleep or the crippling emotions that had followed him everywhere ever since this misadventure began.

Those who receive the blessings of the Saints carry the burden of protecting the world. So Felix was told ever since he was a little farmboy in Vale.

He was an Adept, he was told, a Messenger of Good; a wielder of Psynergy. He was blessed by Saint Lalivero and had been given the ability of manipulating the element of Earth with his mind.

Almost everyone in Vale could use Psynergy, but Felix had always known he was special. People heaped praise on him when he was young, saying he was an extraordinarily talented Adept. They all praised him; the villagers, saying he'd do great things once he grew up. Still, no one probably expected Felix's feats to include betraying his faith, his people, and his loved ones.

Turning around and looking away from the clearing, Felix saw nothing but tall pines and firs—his master had left without a word. Saturos wasn't known for being patient. He was friendly and he enjoyed Felix as a person, but he clearly didn't care for him as a _student_. He wouldn't even train Felix if he hadn't promised Rhen to make a fighter out of him.

Wiping his tears and blinking once more, Felix took a deep breath and then stared at the shiny rapier on the ground. He'd never gone into battle with that sword. He wasn't a swordsman; he was a scribe.

As a child, Felix was blessed with many talents. He could read and write perfectly when he was three years old. He could use Psynergy even earlier; wildflowers and weeds sprouted in his footsteps whenever he walked the earth without shoes, and he could heal injuries with a touch.

He used to have dreams of Saint Lalivero teaching him various things. When he was four, he invented a potent warding spell that quickly became mandatory for every templar of Vale to learn. And about the same time, Harald took him under his wing, hoping to make the bright child his successor.

Had the divines smiled upon him, he would've been a venerated priest today. He would have walked among friends and admirers, instead of being an outlaw with a bounty on his head. He would've been carrying the temple's banner and wielding his beloved brush and quill. But instead, he had to struggle with a sword forged for someone else's hand.

Felix couldn't tear his gaze away from his reflection on the sword. This wasn't his face. This was the face of a man who looked like him, yet didn't.

Had the Saints smiled upon Felix, he would've been greeted by missed friends and family upon his return to Vale. But instead, he had to hide his face behind a mask and assume the identity of his dead teacher from the north. Everyone thought the golden child of Vale was dead, and taking into consideration the crimes Felix was about to commit, it was for the best that he _stayed_ dead.

When he saw his grandparents in the plaza, he couldn't tell them he was home. When he saw his friends Kay and Garet outside the blacksmith's workshop, laughing, he couldn't say hello. When he saw his little sister Jenna sitting by the pond, he wanted to surprise her with a hug. But he couldn't. And he forced himself to run away before people began noticing his staring. As he turned around to flee, he crashed right into Isaac.

Isaac. His best friend. Isaac; Felix almost didn't recognize him. His face had obviously changed a bit, but Felix would never forget Isaac's cornflower eyes. Isaac used to be a short kid and not very strong for his age, but now he was taller and probably stronger than Felix himself. He'd grown his hair out to mimic the dishevel hair Felix used to have, and he still wore that yellow scarf Felix gifted him many years ago.

"Are you _blind__?_" said Isaac, pointing at the flowers scattered on the ground. "_Look_ what you just did, jerkface!"

Felix almost cried Isaac's name in a broken sob. The fact that someone from his past life was talking to him made his heart swell with joy. He stood there like a fool, staring as Isaac squatted and began gathering up his ruined bouquet.

"Get out of my face if you're not going to help!" said the friend.

"S-sorry…" replied Felix weakly, backing away. He was on verge of tears, and he left quickly before Isaac could suspect anything. His hair and mask could hide his face, but this was _Isaac_. Isaac would have recognized him no matter what if he heard or saw him cry.

While Alex distracted the priests and Menardi tried figuring out the best way to get in and out of Sol Sanctum undetected, Felix returned to the place of his childhood—to the river where his family home had been abandoned for years.

There, a runestone had been erected near the river in memory of the dead. Under the shade of a tree, Felix observed Jenna sitting there quietly, humming a familiar tune. Then, he watched Isaac arrive with the fresh flowers from earlier, laying them down at the stone and saying: "I miss him too."

In that moment, all Felix wanted was to let Isaac in on the truth, and let his sister and "brother" comfort him. Isaac always comforted him when the world became too heavy for him to bear. Being the golden child of Vale wasn't all flowers and sweetness and having so much expectation placed on him could be soul-crushing at times. Isaac was the only person who knew Felix wasn't as brave as he pretended to be. Isaac dried Felix's tears and fought the battles Felix couldn't fight. He vowed to be his sword and shield when he grew up, because he loved Felix so much and thought of him as the brother he'd always wanted but never had.

Felix looked up when a soft melody reached his ears. His friend, Alex, lowered his wooden flute.

"Are you well?" asked the healer, tucking his flute back under his tunic.

Felix's gaze lingered on Alex's fringe. The front of his long blue hair was shorter than usual and it seemed like it had been _burnt_ off.

"Your hair," said Felix with a sigh. "Jenna did it, didn't she?"

Alex raised his hands with a slight smile. He was surprisingly forgiving. Jenna had screamed rape and murder on the streets of Vault and tried getting him lynched by a mob. Yet, he tried to cover for her after she set him on fire again.

Everyone in this rag-tag group of outlaws was bound together with debts and promises—Alex was no exception. Felix saved him in Loho, so he signed up for this quest to repay a debt. He was part of a research team excavating an old mine and had somehow ended up trapped inside. Felix dug him out when he heard his flute through the walls and he's been with the group ever since. He often took initiative in solving Menardi's problems, running errands in towns with Felix since the northlanders looked too inconspicuous and he always did it with a carefree smile. Sometimes, Felix wondered if Alex even understood how severe a crime they had committed in stealing the Elemental Stars.

"You can still get out, you know?" said Felix.

"Pardon?"

"You didn't actively participate in the raid—you weren't even in Sol Sanctum. You can still get out if you want. There's nothing for you to gain from this quest."

"There's glory," Alex replied with happy smile.

"Glory! _Hah!" _Felix laughed sardonically. "As poor fighters as _we_ are, we'll most likely die before seeing any of that!"

"Then assume I need escort back to Imil." Alex shrugged his shoulders. "That works for you, right?"

Alex picked up the rapier from the ground, placed it across his hands and then offered it back to Felix as if he was honouring him with a gift. The Water Adept never stopped smiling. His grin could even be contagious at times.

"You're still clean in the eyes of the world, you know?" Felix whispered.

"Are you jealous?" asked Alex with a slight chuckle.

Felix didn't reply immediately, but after taking the sword and standing up, he said:

"Kind of."

"Why did _you_ join?"

Felix looked at his friend for a moment and then sheathed his rapier. Alex remained crouched on the ground with his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers entwined in front of the rest of his body. He seemed genuinely interested in knowing Felix's story, so Felix told him:

"Because Rhen— well, you don't know him. He was this _nasty_ Wind Seer who wanted to kidnap an innocent person from Vale for this quest, because the last Earth Adept of Prox was dead," Felix sighed. "My father volunteered when he heard they were going to hurt the villagers, but I couldn't let him do it." He averted his eyes. "He's been paralyzed from the waist down since the tempest."

"How noble of you," said Alex, still smiling.

"You humouring me?" asked Felix, looking down at his friend with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course not," replied Alex. "Are you suggesting that protecting others isn't a noble act?"

"Well, I can't argue with that…"

Alex looked at Felix's badly wrapped wrist.

"You don't need to keep this charade up," said the healer. "Saturos doesn't want to train you and you don't want to train."

Felix averted his eyes.

"It gives me some time away from—"

"_Felix__!_"

He sighed, raising his hands up to cover his face when he heard his sister's call from beyond the trees.

"Speak of the devil."

"You can't run forever," said Alex evenly, nudging Felix's shoulder. He stood up as Jenna jumped out from the bushes and grabbed Felix's hand.

"Felix, we're leaving!" said the sister. "I can't stay with these savages for another minute! _Look__ what the witch did to me_!"

Jenna pulled down the neckline of her shirt, showing a huge burn beginning on her neck and running down to her collarbone and maybe beyond that too.

Felix sighed and helplessly shook his head, knowing well that Menardi wouldn't do something that petty. He then turned towards his friend, asking:

"Alex, could you _please_ heal that?"

The Imilian awkwardly looked from Felix towards Jenna and then back to Felix again.

_"_Um__…_"_

"Don't you _dare_ touch me," said Jenna, speaking in a low voice and shooting a deadly gaze at Alex.

The healer threw his hands up in front of his chest, taking a step backwards and away from Felix's sister.

"Let him heal you," said Felix, gesturing towards his friend. He felt bad for putting Alex in an awkward situation, but he didn't want his sister to be disfigured for life either. "He can do it without leaving a scar. _Let_ him."

"Maybe I _want_ a scar!" said Jenna, directing her icy glare at Felix instead. "Just to remind you for failing to protect me!"

"You did that to yourself!" Felix argued. "If Menardi did it you wouldn't have any clothes left!" This was the third time Jenna pulled this kind of stunt. He'd fallen for it the first two times and made a fool out of himself, but guilt-tripping could only do so much.

"What did you say?" yelled Jenna.

"_Nothing_…" Felix whispered in defeat, approaching his sister with a healing hand. "Here, have your scars."

Jenna's expression suddenly changed and she backed off, looking past Felix's shoulder.

"_N_evermind_!"_ she said,_ "_I don't want a scar anymore!" She then hastily pointed at Alex. "_You_, fix this."

"He has a _name_," said Felix as Alex stepped over and tapped Jenna's wound with his fingertips. Ripples of Psynergy pulsed across her skin and purged the blisters and burns.

"What you're doing is plain foolishness," said Alex as he healed her. "You're hurting yourself, and hurting _him_."

"_Hah!_" said Jenna. "And why should I listen to _you_, coward?"

"I wasn't there in the ruins, but I was told the only way to even make you _consider_ negotiating with Menardi was when your brother's life was put on the line."

Felix awkwardly touched the scar on his neck.

"Clearly, you care for your brother deeply if you consider his life more valuable than your own," Alex finished his work and carefully pulled Jenna's collar up, even buttoning up her dress. "You may think you're doing him a favour—bringing him home, but the zealots will not forgive this kind of betrayal. All that awaits him in Vale is an execution."

Jenna's face darkened and she grinned haughtily.

"You trying to scare me, Alex?" She laughed scornfully in Alex's face. "I grew up with horror stories! Felix is the high priest's apprentice. _Everyone_ in the village wants him back."

"If you think the zealots can be reasoned with, then ask yourself why there's such a high bounty on his head. He's worth more than Menardi and Saturos _combined_."

Jenna pursed her lips and stared at the healer. After a moment, she averted her eyes, her face turning pink and she rubbed the side of her arm.

"Things are not always what they seem to appear. Your brother is not doing this for himself. He's doing this for _your family__._ _Hk__!_"

Jenna suddenly grabbed Alex's collar and yanked him off balance. She then kicked him between the legs and dropped him to the ground.

"You don't know _anything_ about my people or my village!" said Jenna, relentlessly assaulting the helpless healer with kicks. "And you don't know anything about my _family_, you pretentious prick!"

"_Jenna!_"

Felix leapt forward and grabbed his sister, pulling her away from his friend, but Jenna shoved an elbow into Felix's side and shook herself free. She conjured a flame in her palm to set Alex on fire again, but after a second of thought she snuffed it out and instead kicked the healer on the shoulder one last time.

"You're lucky I don't hate you as much as I hate those pointy eared _freaks__!_" said Jenna. And with that, she angrily grabbed Felix and tried dragging him away from the scene. Felix stumbled, but he put his heels to the ground and yanked his arm back. He went back to check on the friend who's been assaulted for the third time in a week for the crime of offering his sister _kindness_. Propping Alex up against his shoulder, Felix began heading back to the camp.

"_Felix__!_" Jenna yelled after him. "That stupid pansy's just trying to scare you! You're not going back to Vale to die!" Her voice was loud and commanding at first, but when Felix didn't respond to her at all she quickly switched strategy and began begging instead:

"_Felix_, I'll tell everyone we were both kidnapped. I _know_ you were forced into this! Everything will be all right, _I promise_. Y_ou're my__brother_._ I'll protect you. _I won't let _anything_ happen to you. _Grandma and Grandpa_ misses you every day! They are probably worried sick about us now! Don't you want to see them again? Do you _really_ want to live the rest of your life on the run?"

The mention of their grandparents made Felix freeze up for a moment, but he didn't look back. Jenna probably believed in her empty promises, but even if she could convince the Order of Vale to forgive Felix, defecting was not an option. As much as he wanted a family reunion, this was sadly not the time.

Alex tried standing up on his own, but Felix held on tightly.

"Please," he whispered to the Water Adept. He knew Alex was fine—he was a healer. But Felix needed him as a cover right now; he couldn't fight his sister alone.

"Just tell her," said Alex, "tell her about your parents."

"I can't," replied Felix. He knew his sister better than anyone else. Jenna was doing all this crazy stuff when it was just _him_. He didn't want to think of what she'd do once she knew Menardi was the catalyst for the tempest three years ago.

Felix was a coward through and through. Not only did he use his teacher's identity to enter Vale, he couldn't even bear to witness the theft of the Stars. He stayed outside the vault, waiting for his mentors to finish the job. But once he heard Jenna's screech from within, he knew things had gone awry.

Every step he took towards the inner chamber of Sol Sanctum was shaky—never had he been so afraid before. Beyond the last door, he had to face his sister and his friends. He knew it would be ugly, but it turned out to be far worse than he'd imagined.

Isaac and Garet, his best friends, had been a step ahead of him. They had taken the Elemental Stars, the relics Felix himself had come to retrieve. They knew the "pilgrims" were up to something, and they came here to secure the relics.

Isaac was known to have no fear, and he wasn't afraid of some nameless thieves. He mocked Menardi and Saturos, and when he saw Felix step into the vault with a mask he quickly assumed he was the ringleader. Even after Jenna was taken hostage, he refused negotiation. And Jenna. Oh Jenna, if they hadn't taken Kraden hostage too, she'd probably had gone all out and tried fighting them right there.

"Do we look _stupid_ to you?" said Jenna unflinchingly. She wasn't the least scared even when Saturos locked her arms behind her back. "We are Adepts! We are not afraid of you!"

"Right," Isaac filled in. "You want the treasures? Come get them if you can! I'll rather drop them in an abyss than give them to godless scum like you!"

"You'll let us go? What a joke." Jenna chuckled. "You'll kill us anyway. Doesn't matter if we give you the relics or not."

At that point, Saturos shoved her to the floor.

"Your arrogance disgusts me," said the northlander. "If we wanted to kill you, you wouldn't be here, _alive_. And aren't you here to steal the Stars as well, little hypocrite? In fact, I think it's thanks to _us_ you got here in the first place!" He turned to the old man. "Isn't that right, Master Kraden?"

Felix couldn't stand watching anyone mistreat his sister and he stepped between the northlanders and Jenna.

"Enough! I-I won't stand for this any longer…" He stammered, knowing that for every word uttered, Jenna was one step closer to discovering his secret. "Remember your promise."

"Fine," said Saturos with a breathy laugh. "As you wish, _Felix."_

Felix's eyes grew tall, but before he could say another word, his mentor ripped away his mask and shoved him on the floor next to Jenna.

"Now see if you recognize your _family_, girl," Saturos added with an amused laugh.

Felix desperately tried covering his face with his hands, but Jenna recognized him anyway. She gasped and scrambled back, and Felix braced himself for what to come. He shuddered. Tears began to flow. And moments later, Jenna had grabbed the front of his vest and began shaking him violently.

"I thought you _died__!_" She screamed, crying tears of anger and disbelief. "How could you do this to me? How could you to this to _us__?_"

He didn't retaliate. He was too broken to fight back at all. He just wished he was both blind and deaf. Over Jenna's screams, he barely heard Saturos address Isaac and Garet again:

"As you see, your old friend is one of us now. Felix's not going to let us harm his friends and family. You can safely hand over the Stars to us."

Jenna finally stopped shaking him as if he was a ragdoll and Felix looked towards Isaac and Garet in curiosity. Isaac stared back in disbelief. Garet was overcome with emotion, snatching the Elemental Stars from Isaac and running to make the exchange, but Isaac stopped him. Isaac, whose cornflower eyes burned with anger and hate, yelled:

"You brought an impostor here to trick us?_How low can you sink__?_"

Hearing Isaac's words, Felix's heart sank. He looked away, and Jenna protectively put her arms around him, saying he really was her brother. Isaac still refused to believe it, and Garet began fighting with him over what to do.

Saturos impatiently pulled Felix away from Jenna, telling him to stand up and tell his friends the truth. Menardi sighed and rubbed her forehead in irritation.

"There are no tricks," she said calmly. "We fished him up from the Valian River three years ago. You should be grateful we saved his life."

Isaac shook his head. After a while, he began laughing like a maniac and taunted the northlanders.

"Really?" he said. "Then I suppose _we_ _win_. If Felix won't let you hurt us, then what are you going to do? _You just lost! __Hah-ha ha,_ _you can't do__ anything __to us!_"

"Correct," said Menardi and grabbed Felix on his upper arms, keeping him still, "but we never promised we wouldn't hurt _Felix_ _himself_."

She then nodded towards Saturos, and he drew the rapier hanging from Felix's belt and pressed the blade to Felix's pale neck. Jenna almost stood up when Menardi harshly kicked her down with a warning:

"One step closer and your brother dies, _again_," she said.

"_You wouldn't!_" Jenna screeched, sitting up and rubbing her aching shoulder.

"_Try me_," said Saturos with a laugh, letting the sharp blade graze Felix's neck and draw blood. He looked down at Jenna's horrified expression with disdain. "Now, why don't you go talk some sense into your friends over there instead of screaming at us?"

It should have been over there. It should have ended with Isaac and Garet handing over the gems, and with Felix and his companions escaping the rage of the templars. But it wasn't that easy. Isaac and Garet weren't stupid by any means. They had only collected three of the four relics. They agreed to make the exchange in hope of bringing Felix back to the temple while the northlanders fetched the last gem. But Menardi saw right through their little scheme.

"Get the last jewel," she said. "We're not waiting here while you bring in the zealots."

Garet froze, stumped by his enemy's demand. Isaac however, did not hesitate. He drew his sword, but Menardi quickly made a gesture. In the next moment Saturos slashed Felix's throat and threw him to the ground.

They screamed. Jenna, Garet and Isaac; they all screamed.

Isaac's sword clattered to the floor. He rushed towards Felix, crying his fallen friend's name, but Menardi blocked his path and began telling him exactly how much time he had to fetch the Mars Star before Felix no longer could be saved. Jenna screamed and cried hysterically, tugging at Isaac's sleeve and begging him to help Felix.

"Do as they say!" she cried at Isaac's feet. "_Please_, Isaac! I can't lose him again, please, Isaac, _please save him!_"

Isaac stammered a weak yes and then raced Garet to the Mars Star, vanishing into the darkness of the ruins. Afterwards, Menardi stepped over and healed Felix's gaping wound. In his lightheaded state, he heard Jenna cry and promise him everything would be all right.

"I'll get you home, Felix," she said, her voice shaking as she sobbed and cried. "I won't let you die, Felix, I _won't_."

He couldn't reply or sooth his sister's fears before Isaac took the last Star from its pedestal, and then the volcano awoke.

Isaac and Garet had set off the temple's final defences. The walls and the ceiling began to collapse; the entire chamber was crumbling and it would take its raiders with it to its grave.

Menardi ordered retreat and the warband fled the ruins. Isaac and Garet were too far away from the exit to make it out in time. They were buried with the old temple. They died. They died because of _him_. They died because they wanted to save _Felix_. Felix, who never was in any real danger to begin with. Felix, who now had to live with his best friends' deaths on his conscience.

When this was all over, Felix promised, he'd offer his own life in atonement. He did not deserve to reap any reward or praise and he wanted none of it. But maybe he'd have Isaac and Garet's forgiving. Maybe—just maybe, in the next world, would Isaac and Garet find it in them to forgive him for his cowardice.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

Felix angst a lot during the travels through Angara, and I dislike it as much as anyone else, but it's a part I can't cut. Felix is supposed to be really weak in the beginning. He's in fact the weakest character when it comes to fighting and he's kind of fragile emotionally too due to all the stuff he's been exposed to. His full backstory will eventually come to light, but it's spread out throughout the entire story so that you can do some guessing in the meanwhile.

Still, I think I've toned down the angst _a lot_ compared to the previous incarnations of this fic, where Felix pretty much wails and cries in every chapter from the beginning to the end until the beginning of the Gondowan story arc.

In my version, Alex didn't participate in the raid of Sol Sanctum because, as I've said before, Vale has competent people in charge. Felix's team therefore needs someone to act as a diversion and pave a road for their escape beforehand, and Alex is that person. He isn't branded as an outlaw immediately because the Valians don't know he's in league with Menardi.

Now let's talk about the events of Sol Sanctum. As I've said before, the characters are people and will act differently from their game counterparts. This will result in most events playing out differently too. The way I've built their characters, Isaac and Garet would not hand over the Elemental Stars, and Jenna would rather _die_ than be the reason for the relics ending up in the wrong hands. So the reason they actually give up the Elemental Stars is not because Jenna and Kraden are taken hostage but rather because Felix was bleeding out and dying (again). Of course, if Saturos had stabbed Jenna the same thing would apply, but he simply wouldn't do that because 1) honour system and 2) Felix would flip out and jump ship.

And yes, I _know_ Garet said in an earlier chapter that Felix got stabbed, and not slashed in the throat.


	6. – The Spy

**I**saac cursed inwardly.

How could this happen? He came to put those scumbags in their places, but now _he_ was being charged with arson, robbery and kidnapping. Where's _justice_ in the world?

He looked towards Garet, who sat in his own corner on the other side of the prison cell. He seemed to be pondering about their current predicament as well. At least he'd stopped repeating the obvious and calling Isaac an idiot. Did he honestly think Isaac would've gone after the thieves if he _knew_ he'd end up in jail?

With a huff, Isaac looked up towards the small aperture in the wall. The moon cast a ray of light into the cell. He sighed.

Maybe he should've known better. Maybe he shouldn't have gone back and picked a fight with those damn thieves just to get back at them for stealing his stuff. Those scumbags… _Of course_ they'd try framing him for the crimes they'd committed. _Of course_ they'd accuse him of kidnapping the mayor's son and have _him_ locked up in jail. Being an outsider, Isaac was nothing to the townsfolk of Vault. No one would vouch or speak for him in trial. It was the thieves' words against his.

Everything seemed to hinge on Frederick's testimony, but what if the boy never woke up? He was trapped in the smoke for so long…

Isaac chuckled. Well, if the trial went badly he could always use "sorcery" to escape.

Heh, maybe Garet was right. Maybe he really was an idiot. He should've let the authorities deal with it. He should've gone back and reported his findings instead of trying to be a hero. When Isaac thought about it, this actually mimicked the events that led up to Jenna's kidnapping in Sol Sanctum.

Maybe it wasn't Kraden's fault. The old man wouldn't have gotten anywhere if Isaac didn't back him up for his own selfish reasons. If he'd been a good citizen and reported "the pilgrims" to the Order of Vale, the templars would have arrested Felix and the crooks on the spot. But _no_, Isaac had to show the world that he could be a hero like his late father, and Felix got away with the Elemental Stars.

Felix. Of course that was Felix in Sol Sanctum. Isaac would never forget his best friend's face. He just couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that Felix would let some thugs use his sister as a hostage. He couldn't believe that Sweet Felix would pull Jenna and Isaac's heartstring in such cruel ways. And he couldn't believe that Sweet Felix would deliberately trick him and then leave him to die in a volcano.

Isaac smiled bitterly. Tears began pricking his eyes, but he furiously blinked them away.

Thinking back, he was truly an idiot. Felix was an amazing Adept. He could heal himself. So what if his accomplices slit his throat? _He could heal himself!_ Felix must have been laughing for himself when Isaac screeched like a girl and cried he'd do whatever it takes to save him.

Hearing a soft gasp, Isaac dejectedly turned his head sideways. Ivan was staring at him with worried eyes. Poor child. He was afraid. Poor Ivan. He had to spend a night in jail because Isaac was a useless failure who couldn't protect him. Isaac tried to smile for Ivan's comfort, reaching out to touch the little Wind Adept's shoulder when Garet suddenly exclaimed:

"Isaac, he's reading your mind!"

Blinking, Isaac suddenly saw Ivan's aura of Psynergy. It was the very spell he cast when Isaac met him in that tavern—the one that allowed him to hear Isaac's thoughts… and perhaps even _more_.

Without warning, his hands flew to Ivan's neck and he slammed the boy against the wall. The little devil's aura vanished, but for how long had he been doing it unnoticed? How much did he hear? How much did he _know?_

Ivan promised. Ivan _promised_ to never do this to him again! How could he do this? How could he do this to the person who went out of his way to help him recover his stupid heirloom only to end up in jail!

"Isaac, _no_."

This little devil. He did this. He was in league with the thieves. He did this. He tricked Isaac into believing his sob-story and he tricked him into going after the thieves. This was his plan all along. He set everything on fire! He brought the guards in by setting everything on fire! It was his intention to put Isaac in jail and have him found guilty of all these crimes. And Isaac fell for it. Isaac fell for it because he thought Ivan got abused as a result of his cruelty towards him earlier in the tavern. He fell for it because poor sweet Ivan cried in his arms and said he was his only friend.

"Isaac, _stop!_"

Isaac couldn't hear. He could barely see anything through the tears in his eyes.

Ivan—Isaac pitied him. Isaac trusted him. How could Ivan do this to him? How could he betray him like this? Isaac wouldn't try being _anyone's_ hero, but after finding Ivan abused by those scumbags all he wanted was to take back all the nasty things he'd said to him earlier. After finding Ivan battered and bruised, all Isaac wanted was to apologize and hold Ivan until everything was all right…

"_Isaac, you're going to kill him if you don't stop now!_"

He winced, finally hearing Garet's scream. He gasped, blinking and letting out the tears in his eyes, and then stared at Ivan's terrified expression in the moonlight. Caught in Isaac's stranglehold, the boy didn't move or even use Psynergy.

"I-Isaac…" Ivan's breath came out in quick gasps. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he whispered in unadulterated fear: "Mercy… m-m-mercy, _please_…"

Isaac's hands began closing and unclosing around Ivan's neck again. And then… he saw the faint glow of Psynergy on his own hands—a deadly spell in preparation. By the Saints… Isaac quickly willed it into a healing spell. _Oh gods._ Had he continued, he'd pierced Ivan's throat with shards of flint! He released Ivan and the boy scrambled away, shaking in fear.

Watching Ivan pull his cloak and collar up around his neck and curl up near the wall made Isaac's heart sink. No, what did he just do? No, why did he do that to Ivan? Ivan was just a child. Ivan probably didn't mean anything hurtful in reading his mind. Ivan was just worried. He probably just wanted to know why Isaac was so sad. _Why_ did he hurt Ivan?

He let out a gasp, clumsily crawling over to apologize and comfort the boy, but Garet quickly stepped in. The Fire Adept grabbed Isaac and threw him back on the floor. When Isaac propped up on his hands and looked back at his friend, Garet was sitting on his knees, holding a shaky arm outstretched to shield the defenceless child. He panted and stared Isaac down, but the look in his eyes revealed his hesitation and fear.

_KLANK._

The door to the cell opened and Garet quickly blurted out that Isaac was trying to murder the boy. Isaac lowered his head. He didn't fight back when the jailor dragged him out and put him in a different cell.

He didn't sleep that night. He couldn't stop thinking about how badly he'd messed up. He thought of Jenna, and what would happen to her if he failed rescuing her. He thought of his mother back in Vale, and how worried she might be about him being away from home for so long. He thought of his father who probably was spinning in his grave. He thought of Felix, who used to be his friend and brother but wasn't anymore. And he thought of Ivan—the friendship he literary just ruined which his own two hands.

Time passed slowly and painfully. Eventually, Isaac fell into dreamless asleep. At midday perhaps, the door opened and the jailor arrived to tell him he was free.

Upstairs in the barracks, he met up with Garet, who was pretending the incident last night didn't happen. All their possessions were laid out on the guard captain's desk, and like an overbearing uncle he made the Adepts promise not to cause any more trouble in town. Apparently, a councilman had vouched for their innocence last night and Frederick's testimony today had sealed the deal.

The thieves had been keeping the mayor's son locked up because the boy stumbled across their hideout by chance. Had the Adepts not intervened, they would have left the city a few days later and disposed Frederick in the river.

The council stiffed Isaac of the reward for catching the thieves, but Garet told him to be grateful for getting away with trespassing and arson. Mayor Greg later showed up at the barracks and personally offered them some supplies and a few coins for rescuing his son. As Garet took care of the talking, Isaac quietly asked the guards what happened with Ivan. He wasn't truly a spy working with the thieves, was he?

"Hammet's servant?" said the guard captain. "His treasure was found among the stolen goods. The boy left the city this morning to find his master."

* * *

Leaving Vault, Isaac and Garet began the journey back to Vale in hopes of running into Jenna and Felix along the way. At evening, they rested in a farm where the abducted siblings had visited. The farmers said Jenna squabbled with their "aunt" about where to go and ended up heading east towards Bilibin.

Isaac wasn't surprised that Garet had been misinformed, but he was saddened that Jenna was still stuck with Felix and the thieves.

They changed course towards Bilibin. For the next few days, almost everything on Isaac's mind was Jenna and the mission. Occasionally, his thoughts would wander back to Ivan and he'd feel regretful for his actions in Vault. He'd wonder if Ivan was the vindictive kind. He told Ivan so much about Vale. He told Ivan that Vale was a "wizard village". What if Ivan divulged this information to the rest of the world? The priests and the templars had enough to deal with. They didn't need a bunch of misguided people coming to Vale to ask questions.

Halfway on the road to Bilibin, they met another group of travellers. Despite Garet's suggestions, Isaac declined the company. He couldn't trust anyone any longer and those people travelled too slowly anyway. He went so far as to tell Garet to not talk too much to people about Vale. In hindsight, he figured he'd been incredibly rude, but he didn't want another Ivan-incident.

The journey eastward wasn't unhindered, as Isaac hadn't planned the journey properly. His map was outdated, and while he did buy new camping tools in Vault, he didn't barter for enough food. He knew it was more than a week to Bilibin on foot, but he'd expected to be able to barter later on at farms and villages. He didn't expect to be on the road for days without even a glance of a proper place to rest. And he didn't expect the journey to involve mountaineering either.

After seven days of trekking through woodlands and hills, they finally reached a small trading post near the Goma Range late at noon. The mountains bordered Bilibian territory, and they needed to get past them to reach the city. The Adepts stopped by the outpost to replenish the food supplies but also to ask for information about how to get past the mountains.

Bartering wasn't Isaac's forte. He never needed to haggle much in Vale since everyone in the village knew one another, but his bartering abilities were probably irrelevant—there was no other place to buy food within miles and the hunter running the trading post knew it. As the Earth Adept counted the remaining coins in his pouch after paying for the overpriced goods, Garet asked how far it was to Bilibin.

"Would've been one day on foot if the Goma Cave wasn't blocked," replied the hunter. "Right now, I suppose you'll have to wait until it's cleared or take another route."

Isaac gathered the bread and dried meat, putting it in his rucksack. He snorted. A roadblock? Nothing an Adept like him couldn't handle.

"Have you seen any thuggish looking people or a red-haired girl lately?" asked Garet.

"Thugs I see every day," said the hunter and chuckled, "but if you're looking for women I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place."

Isaac raised his arms high up in the air, rolling his eyes and heading towards the exit of the hunter's dwelling.

"If you can't get past the roadblock, I've got tools for sale if you want to scale the mountains!" said the hunter with a laugh.

"We're good," replied Isaac, marching out of the outpost and heading back towards the mountain trail. Talking to that _robber_ was just a waste of time.

A few minutes later, Garet came running to him as expected, bringing news:

"The huntsman said Jenna and Felix were here a few days ago."

"A few days ago?" Isaac snorted. "Exactly how many?"

"He couldn't remember if it was four or three," replied Garet.

"Then he's probably messing with you."

"Why would he lie?"

"I dunno, because he wants me to buy his stuff? Because I was rude to him?"

Isaac partially hoped this really was a prank. Otherwise, that would mean Felix was_gaining a lead_.

"The world doesn't revolve around _you_," said Garet. "Stop thinking that _everyone_ is out to get you."

"Whatever." Isaac replied in a dismissive tone, but he was feeling more demoralized each passing moment. He wondered how far ahead Felix was and where he was taking Jenna. If only Isaac knew their final destination, he could figure out what paths to take to catch up.

By evening, the mountain trail abruptly ended at a signpost warning for rockslides. Looking past the wooden board, Isaac could see that part of the crag had collapsed and that beyond the cliff was a huge pile of rocks blocking the supposed entrance of the Goma Cave. Isaac was confident that he could leap across, but the stones offered no space for his feet even if he successfully crossed the chasm. He wasn't sure how long this blockade had been here, but the thick vines growing on top of the mess indicated that no one had tried clearing the roadblock for an extended period of time. Which was odd since this road was supposedly commonly travelled.

Taking a deep breath, Isaac nailed his gaze on the rocks and focused his mind. The stones glowed faintly as his spell took form. Isaac raised his hand and gestured as if he could just push them off the cliff with the motion, but to his disappointment, his spell failed.

He tried again, drawing more Psynergy and pouring more strength into his labour. Instead of waving, he shoved his palm forward, trying to push the rocks in another direction with his spell. He heard the rocks crackle and a few of them shift around under the ivy, but he began feeling dazed before he could accomplish anything significant. He ceased the spell and wobbled back from the cliff, rubbing his temples. It was the plants. The damn plants bound everything to place!

"Torch the vines while I rest," said Isaac, gesturing towards the roadblock and sighing in resignation.

He sat down leaning against the mountain wall, wiping sweat from his forehead as his friend stepped forward. Garet swept his hand upwards, launching a wave of flames towards the rock and vines, but they didn't catch fire. The leaves were burnt off for sure, but the vines themselves didn't—the fire resistance was strong.

Garet cast Psynergy again, rigidly making a scoping gesture and closing his hand in midair. Large plumes of flames engulfed the rocks, burning brightly in the evening sun. It seemed like it was working, but Garet couldn't hold that spell for longer than ten seconds. Conjuration was easy—the hard part was maintaining the spell.

Isaac sighed. This would take all night—and they weren't even getting paid for the job! Dropping his bags on the ground, Isaac went back to give his tired friend a pat on the back. Garet waved his hand weakly and staggered back to rest against the mountain wall, muttering for himself that it was probably easier to get rid of the vines with a tool.

It was probably just an offhanded comment and not an actual proposal of an idea, but Isaac still decided to try it when he heard it. He took a run and jumped towards the pile of rocks, grabbing hold of the vines and hanging on tight. The vines were warm against his gloves as he climbed upwards, trying to find a position for his feet to stand on.

"Careful, Isaac!" said Garet.

Isaac grumbled a "Don't worry" for himself as he found just enough footing on the ledge to stand on his toes. He then drew his sword and went loose on the plant life, hacking at the vines. They were strong but eventually broke under the force of Isaac's blade. Still, they stubbornly stuck to the rocks, meaning they still needed to be unravelled by hand. He pushed his sword under the vines to begin working on that, but the strenuous task tired him out quickly. He could barely feel his arm and his feet hurt from standing on the ledge for so long. Panting and still hanging onto the vines, Isaac finally lowered his sword.

He was so stupid—why didn't he use his axe? It would have been so much easier with a hatchet. Isaac moved and twisted around to sheathe his blade but he lost his foothold when the small edge crumbled beneath his weight.

"_Isaac__!_"

Dropping the sword, Isaac grabbed the vines with both hands, but he didn't have the strength to pull himself up. Defeated, he looked for something that could at least break the fall. Finally, he jumped towards the nearest and tallest fir, latching his arms around the top as he rapidly slid down along the length of the tree. The friction burned the insides of his limbs and he crashed on the ground, feeling pain everywhere.

Isaac groaned as he slowly crawled out from under the fir. The insides of his arms burned like fire and his legs hurt just as badly. He could swear his skin had been peeled off under his clothes and he cast a healing spell to fix his injuries. The cool feeling of his Psynergy was a welcome relief and he let out a long gasp as the pain faded away. When his friend lifted the fir branches and offered Isaac a hand, Isaac silently thanked Garet and accepted the help. But then he looked up and laid eyes on golden locks and blue eyes.

Ivan… Seeing Ivan's concerned look, Isaac smiled—relieved that the little Wind Adept still cared despite the hurtful thing he did to him in Vault. Isaac had missed him. He'd wanted to speak to him ever since he left Vault. He'd wanted to apologize…

Wait. Why was Ivan _here_? Didn't he go back to Kalay with his treasure? Why would he be here in the Goma Range? And… was that a Psynergy aura? _What the hell?_ He was reading Isaac's mind again!

Without a word, Isaac seized Ivan's purple collar. The boy's hands quickly slipped around Isaac's wrists and he stopped using Mindread.

"I-Isaac! Isaac, _please__!_ Let me explain!" said Ivan, begging with a frightened look in his eyes.

"Explain? _What more is there to explain?"_ said Isaac, relentlessly hurtling accusations at the boy."You followed us. You read my mind _again_! You're a _spy! Who are you working for?__ Did __Felix__ send you here to spy on me?_"

He tossed Ivan aside. He couldn't believe this. He had been feeling sorry about mistreating Ivan after getting out of jail, but now the little devil had come back to spy or steal from him!

"_Isaac!_ Isaac, are you all right?" called Garet, running towards him from the mountain trail. He'd been sprinting and was trying to catch his breath, but upon seeing Ivan sitting nearby, he too had to ask:

"Ivan? What are _you_ doing here?"

Ivan blinked and then quickly crawled over to Garet and latched onto the Fire Adept's hand.

"I came here to help you," said the boy. "I know you're trying to get to Bilibin so I—"

"You've caused enough trouble!" Isaac snapped at the boy, remembering his mistake of helping Ivan in Vault. If he'd just left Vault early, Felix and Jenna wouldn't be _four_ days ahead of them on the road! Heck, he might even have caught them on that farm north of Vault if he hadn't pitied this kid.

Ivan cast a worried glance towards Isaac for a moment, but then turned back to Garet.

"Please, take me with you. Garet, I promise I'll be useful!"

"_No!_" said Isaac.

Ivan ignored him. He shook Garet's arm again.

"No," repeated Garet, "it's too dangerous."

"I'm not afraid!" said Ivan desperately.

Garet pried his hands away.

"No, Ivan," he said again, not even wasting time to elaborate. Instead, he made his way over to the Earth Adept and offered Isaac a hand.

Isaac accepted the help and then wobbled back to the mountain trail. It wasn't dark yet, so there was still time to finish the job he'd started. Looking back, he saw that the little spy was following him closely.

Help? Pff! Who was he trying to fool? Why would he come all the way to the Goma Range just to "help" Isaac? _He walked all the way from Vault!_ If he wasn't a spy, then he was either insane or too dumb to live. Help? What could he possibly help Isaac with? What could he possibly do that Isaac and Garet _couldn't_ do _better_? Oh right, he could read minds. Yes, Mindread would be extremely helpful in this situation. _Not!_

Reaching the roadblock again, Isaac found that his sword was gone from its scabbard—of course, he dropped it during the fall and had forgotten to pick it up. He was about to go back and look for it, but Ivan suddenly presented it to him in his hands. The boy looked up towards him, scared yet hopeful. Ivan's face was dirty, and his hair was tousled with leaves and twigs sticking out of it. His eyes were bloodshot; he didn't seem to have slept well. That, or he'd cried for hours. For a second, Isaac wondered what could have happened to Ivan on the road, but then remembered Ivan was a fledgling spy who couldn't be trusted. As he took his sword back, he heard a familiar growl coming from Ivan's stomach, and the boy shamefully put his arms around his middle.

_Oh_. Isaac smirked. So he was hungry. He looked at Ivan again, trying to see if he was carrying any supplies. Well, he had a large flat wooden box strapped on his back, but it seemed like it held a huge expensive painting rather than food.

Isaac sheathed his sword. He then grabbed Ivan's wrist and dragged him towards the cliff. The boy whimpered and began tripping his way after the Earth Adept, having much shorter legs than his leader.

"Look at yourself," said Isaac once they were at the ledge near the pile of rocks. "What do you think you look like? You dress in velvet and gold! You're a little prince, not a warrior. What can you possibly do to help?"

"I-I…" Ivan had barely opened his mouth, when Isaac immediately cut him off.

"You want to help?" said the Earth Adept, pointing at Ivan meaningfully. "I'll give you a chance to help me! See that ivy?" He pointed at the rocks and vines. "Get rid of that and I'll take you with me. If you can't even do that, then you can crawl back to Vault on your own."

He then drew his hunting knife, put it in Ivan's hands, and then beckoned him to give it a try. The little Wind Adept looked at the knife. He swallowed and tears began filling his eyes. Isaac tried hard not to grimace or show that he felt bad—this stupid kid needed to know when to give up.

Ivan wobbled towards the cliff, dropping his box next to Isaac's supplies. The Earth Adept smirked as the boy stood on the cliff and helplessly looked around, holding the hunting knife in both hands. He wouldn't jump. Isaac knew he wouldn't jump. He was a coward and Isaac knew a craven when he saw one.

"D-do I have to use the knife?" asked the boy, hesitantly looking back towards Isaac.

"Use whatever you want," replied the Earth Adept with a nonchalant whisk of his hand.

Ivan took a deep breath and then shut his eyes, hesitantly drawing on his Psynergy.

Isaac's smirk faded. Psynergy? So what was he going to try? Lightning? Huh, that might actually work. Maybe this boy could be useful, after all.

A faint aura flashed around Ivan, but it didn't glow in a stable light, indicating that he was untrained or hesitant with his spell.

"Lightning, strike!" Ivan called out, but nothing happened. His aura faded and the boy opened his eyes.

"_Lightningbolt__!_" he then yelled, stupidly pointing at the rocks with his hands. This time his Psynergy didn't even respond at all.

Isaac chuckled and shook his head, while Garet sighed and stepped towards the boy, saying:

"Ivan, you can stop, I'll walk you back to the outpost."

Ivan didn't reply to the offer. He focused again and used Psynergy successfully this time. A strong wind rose and autumn leaves began flying about. Tree-branches waved. The wind grew stronger. Twigs and branches snapped. What was this kid doing?

"_Enough__!_" said Isaac, raising his arms to shield his eyes from the dust and dancing leaves. He resisted the winds and began making his way towards Ivan. "You're wasting our time!"

Yet, the wind grew stronger and Isaac stumbled. He couldn't take another step or he'd slip and fall.

"I said _enough__!_" Isaac repeated for the last time. He then stepped aside to the mountain wall in resignation. If this stupid kid wanted to learn about his own limitations the hard way, then so be it.

As expected, the magic wind abruptly stopped. Twigs fell to the ground and leaves began sailing down through the air.

"Ssh…" Feeling something sting his face, Isaac touched his cheek to find a bleeding cut. He didn't know what had caused it but he healed it regardless. As he looked back at the boy, he found that Ivan had collapsed on the ground, obviously drained. What an idiot. Didn't he know his own limits? Or did he have a deathwish?

Garet stumbled over to check on the kid.

"He's fine," he said, confirming that the boy had only collapsed in exhaustion.

Isaac nodded and cast a glance towards the ledge. The little Wind Adept had managed to remove most of the vines. Of course, it couldn't have happened if Isaac hadn't sliced them up with his sword prior, but he still fulfilled his task.

Isaac waved his hand and used Psynergy. The rocks shifted. He swept his hand sideways swiftly and the stones rolled off the ledge, revealing the entrance of a dark tunnel behind.

"Ivan?" said Garet, holding the boy in his arms. "Are you all right?"

Ivan blinked. He tried to stand up but failed. He shook his head and then looked at Isaac, begging for his approval. Isaac nodded towards him but he kept a stern expression. He was a man of his word, but he'd still keep an eye on the little spy.

"_What?_" said Garet, quickly throwing a look at Isaac's cold expression and then turning back to face Ivan. "_No_, we're on a dangerous mission. It's not some 'fun adventure'. Let me get you back to the outpost."

Ivan yelped. He grabbed and shook Garet's arm. He said he'd travelled so far. He said he was hungry and tired and that he couldn't possibly make the journey back to Vault or Kalay alone.

"Y-you _promised__!_" said Ivan on verge of tears. He struggled to stand up and stumbled towards Isaac, but Garet caught him before he could fall. "_Isaac_, you promised! You can't… You can't leave me! I'll die! I don't want to _die_ here!"

Isaac laughed, but he didn't know why he did since the situation wasn't amusing to him at all.

"We'll bring you to Bilibin then," said Garet, obviously bothered by the mention of innocent deaths.

"On one condition," said Isaac.

"Don't be callous! I think he's suffered enough."

"No thieving and no mindreading."

"I promise!" said Ivan, snivelling and wiping away tears. "I'll behave! I'll do whatever you say! I'll do _anything_ you say! Please, just don't leave me here!"

* * *

They reached the other side of the cave by the end of the day, finding themselves on a clear forest path. It was night, and raining, so they decided to set up camp at the end of the tunnel and rest for the night. Garet gathered some stray branches to make a campfire, while Isaac lay out the bedrolls. Ivan watched them work from the side, but didn't try to help. As Isaac prepared the food, he saw Ivan clutching his wooden box like a shield. The boy seemed afraid that Isaac would unexpectedly lash out at him for no reason. That, or he was simply too much of a pampered princess to even know what to do. When Isaac gave him some of the dry bread and meat, he took the food and scurried off to eat in his own corner. Later, Isaac heard coughing from his direction and hurried over to pass Ivan his water pouch.

"Careful," said Isaac, as the boy washed the hard bread down. Apparently, this kid wasn't used to a poor man's meal. How did he even get this far on foot without dying? Ivan coughed again and Isaac gently rubbed his back. When the little Wind Adept then began scratching himself around the neck, Isaac noticed red blotches on the skin.

"Do you have lice?" asked Isaac, withdrawing his hand in disgust.

"No…" Ivan whispered, "it's just bug bites."

"Take off your shirts and let me see," said Isaac, lifting the bottom of Ivan's velvet tunic.

"What?_ No!_" Ivan yelped, immediately shying away. "N-no, I'm fine." He then whimpered, looking away as Isaac's surprised expression turned into a frown.

Isaac turned away without saying a word. He was going to offer a healing hand, but if Ivan was going to be like that, then he could keep his lice or insect bites.

The little Wind Adept was the first to fall asleep. Isaac stared at his old map, trying to plan for the next day, but he couldn't stop looking behind him to check on Ivan. The boy sat slumped over and clutched his wooden box even in sleep. What was in that box? What was so valuable that he'd have to guard it even in sleep? Without hesitation, Isaac moved over to the boy and whispered:

"Hey… _Hey_."

When Ivan didn't move or open his eyes, Isaac took the opportunity to gently pry the box out of the younger Adept's hands. He put it down on the ground to examine the lock.

"What are you doing?" asked Garet, looking up from carving a wooden figure with his small knife.

Isaac ignored his friend and fingered on the large elaborate padlock. He drew his hunting knife and put the blade in the shackle, used Psynergy, and then twisted the knife, popping the lock with ease.

"Isaac, what the hell!" said Garet, keeping his voice down to not wake Ivan.

"I'm just looking," replied Isaac, unaffected. He had to know what the kid was hiding. What if he fled to Isaac because he'd stolen something valuable? He wasn't going to let someone frame him for a crime he didn't commit a _second_ time! Opening the box, he found a wooden staff. There was nothing special about it. It looked like an old shepherd's rod with faded paint. This was the Merchant King's treasure? What a joke. As he closed the box and pushed it aside towards the rest of the luggage, a folded blanket crashed against the back of his head. He took it and glared at Garet.

"_What__?_"

The Fire Adept silently pointed towards Ivan, who was still sleeping in a sitting position that would surely give him neck pains in the morning. With a sigh, Isaac tossed the blanket around Ivan's shoulders and then went back to feed the campfire with more twigs and branches. Looking back, he saw the boy stirring a little, curling up in search for warmth. With some afterthought, Isaac moved his bedroll over to Ivan and lay the boy down. As the little Wind Adept tried scratching the bug bites on his neck, Isaac used Psynergy and healed them. The boy shivered, chilled by Isaac's cold energy flowing into him. Ivan furrowed his brow and mumbled something in his sleep. It sounded like a name, but it didn't sound familiar. Isaac was surprised the boy didn't wake up. Then, he heard Garet stifle a laugh.

"What?" said Isaac. "Whenever I do things, I do them _properly_."

"I didn't say anything," replied Garet, looking upwards and showing his palms. His words dripped with irony and the grin of his face showed clearly that he found the situation amusing.

"Grow up," said Isaac, grumbling for himself as he carefully tucked Ivan in with the blanket before returning to his own business.

* * *

Isaac was the first to wake up in the morning and rekindle the fire. Garet had fallen asleep on watch again, which wasn't surprising. The friend woke up when Isaac nudged him and he began complaining about his wry neck.

"If you're tired, just wake me up," said Isaac, giving Garet his breakfast. He then went over to Ivan, who was still asleep, to retrieve his gear.

"Wake up," said Isaac, shaking Ivan a little. "It's morning, princess. Time to leave."

He unceremoniously removed the blanket and tore the bedroll out from under Ivan. The boy gasped as he was rolled onto the ground. Ivan propped himself up on his hands and glanced around the cave, confused and frightened. Pitying him, Isaac decided to help him up and also told him where his precious box was. The little Wind Adept didn't say a word after finding the box opened but he seemed upset and gave Isaac a sad look. Garet shook his head and helped Ivan tie the lid close with some rope. He also gave Isaac a stare, demanding an apology.

"Yea, I opened it," said Isaac with a snort. He wasn't afraid of admitting to the things he did. "So what?"

"It's fine…" said Ivan, hugging the box against his chest. "I understand that you don't trust me."

"I didn't steal your stuff."

"I know. You're not a thief."

Breakfast was quick, although Ivan was still having trouble swallowing the food and his dumb grimaces irked Isaac to no end. Afterwards, they finished packing and then continued the journey to Bilibin, reaching the city perhaps an hour later.

Bilibin was a busy town, and the guards didn't give Isaac any trouble. They just waved the Adepts in when Garet said they were templars and didn't even bother checking their bags. Obviously, something was wrong with the guards of Vault.

If Isaac wasn't worried about the quest, he'd have taken time to view the city. But for now, he only noted the city was larger than Vault and possessed a stone wall with watchtowers. He sought his way towards the town square. There was a market there, which wasn't surprising since it was harvest season.

Garet stopped to gaze at a large bronze statue of an elegant woman with a flowing dress and a crown of feathers on her head. She held an elaborate sceptre in one hand and a fan made out of the wing of a bird in the other. Isaac found it a bit strange to find a statue of Saint Contigo here at first, but then wondered if she was the town's patron Saint.

"No, that's the current ruler's wife," said Ivan with a wry smile. "Margaret McCoy."

Isaac frowned in disgust. Judging from the look on Garet's face, he seemed to share the Earth Adept's sentiment. Who the hell was arrogant enough to make a statue of themselves in the liking of one of the Saints?

"You seem familiar with this town," said Garet, looking at the boy.

"I've been here a few times with Father," replied Ivan, clutching his box tighter.

"Come to think about it, what happened to your father the Merchant King?" asked Garet. "You got your treasure back, so why didn't you go home?"

"There were some complications," said Ivan, speaking evenly. If Isaac hadn't been staring at the boy, he would have missed that sad look in his eyes for half a second.

"Oh," said Garet with slight hesitation. He glanced at Isaac, who stood with his arms folded over his chest in silence. "Uh, I don't know what to say," he continued. "I wish I could cheer you up, but—"

"The sentiment is appreciated," murmured Ivan ruefully, turning away, "but I guess you're right; I think I've been enough of a burden to you."

Isaac averted his gaze, braiding his arms tighter.

"You'll be fine on your own then?" asked Garet.

"Yes," replied Ivan, his voice becoming more emotionless each passing second. Again, he squeezed his wooden box. "I have contacts here. I'm a 'little nobleman', remember?" he finished with a bitter smile. He took a few steps away from Isaac and Garet, but then stopped, and without looking back, he said his farewell:

"I suppose this is good-bye, then. Thank you. I'll always remember your kindness."

With those parting words, Ivan left. Isaac watched him vanish into the crowd, and for some reason, he felt a need to call out to him. He assumed he still wanted to apologize for the horrible things he did to Ivan in Vault, but he still didn't have the stomach to go through with it. Would it even matter at this point?—It's not like he'd have to deal with the little prince anymore.

"So, what now?" asked Garet, drawing Isaac's attention.

"Buy supplies," replied Isaac with a sigh. "I'll look for information."

"What? _No!_" said Garet. "_You_ do the _shopping_, _I'll_ gather intelligence."

"Fine. Let's meet up here again later."

After splitting up, Isaac wandered off to the market and bartered for food. Seeing the citizens enjoying the day made him suddenly wonder how things were in Vale. If Felix and the damn thieves hadn't shown up, it would probably have been a harvest celebration back home too. Instead, everyone was to spend the harvest season arming themselves for battle...

Why? Isaac asked inwardly gnashing teeth as he paid for the milk and bread. Felix, why did you come back?

After filling his bag with supplies from the market, Isaac visited a nearby pawnshop to ask for information, using a story he made up about thieving relatives and his wife's dowry. He gave the broker a description of Felix and the thieves and the shopkeeper said he did recall a young man with long brown hair selling him jewellery.

"Could you describe the jewellery your in-law stole?"

Isaac reached under his tunic and picked out a string of glass beads—his mother's necklace. Most of the beads were clear transparent glass, but four of them were coloured in red, yellow, blue and violet each. His father wooed his mother with this necklace, saying he'd do anything for her—even bring her the Elemental Stars.

"This is the fake replica they left behind," said Isaac. "They took the necklace apart and have been selling the jewels in different towns."

The broker simply shook his head with a mild smile, and Isaac let out a disappointed sigh. Leaving the pawnshop, he made his way back towards the town square, slowly walking through the market as his mind wandered back to Felix's betrayal. He wondered if he couldn't have been wrong after all. What if he wasn't dealing with petty thieves? What if they never intended to sell the Stars and were delivering them to some criminal mastermind? The Elemental Stars were "treasures" after all.

Suddenly, he heard a shrill voice behind him cry out:

"_Release me!_"

Isaac winced. That voice. He recognized that voice. It belonged to Ivan! Turning around and running towards where it came, he listened and heard an older man shouting from the same direction.

Ivan was being surrounded by a bunch of curious bystanders in the marketplace. His precious box was gone and a man who might or might not be related to him was clutching his wrist. The man had dark brown hair and eyes and his complexion was darker than that of the average north Angaran as well. The quality of his clothes would have matched Ivan's if the boy hadn't trekked through the woods and mountains for days.

"What's going on?" asked Isaac, and a bystander told him a father was having trouble with a run-away child.

"I don't know him! _Help me!_" Ivan screamed, but his father drowned out his crying with angry insults. He began dragging Ivan away from the marketplace.

A silver dagger then suddenly slipped into Ivan's hand from under his sleeve, but the man caught his wrist before the boy could stab him in the arm.

"_How dare you!_" said the father, twisting Ivan's hand and making him drop the weapon. He then proceeded to land a hit on Ivan's face with the back of his hand.

The man yelled at the little Wind Adept, calling Ivan a worthless ingrate. He said Ivan's mother was deathly sick, and yet he dared to run off with the family's savings. He then bent his fingers outwards until Ivan began crying and begging him to stop.

"Out of my way!"

Someone suddenly pushed through the crowd and grabbed Ivan's other arm, intervening.

"Who do you think you are?" said Garet—paragon of justice and defender of the weak and the poor.

"I'm this boy's father," said the man angrily, trying to whisk Garet's hand off. "Now who the hell are _you__?_"

"Garet…" Ivan whimpered. "Garet, I don't know him…"

"You heard him!" yelled the templar. "He doesn't know you!"

"Insolent child!" said the man and stared at Ivan. "You'd appease to this complete stranger just to avoid punishment? I'll teach you…" He lifted his hand again, but Garet caught it.

"Don't you _dare_ hit him again," he said, clamping his hand around the man's wrist and forcing him to release the boy. He then quickly pulled Ivan away from his alleged parent. Ivan held Garet's arm tightly, saying over and over that he didn't know the man.

"Who are you?" said the "father", rubbing his hurting wrist.

"I'm his friend."

"_Friend!_" said the man with a snide laugh. "Get out of my way before I call the guards, you brute." He approached Ivan again, but stopped when Garet's hand reached for the grip of his sword.

"I'm a templar," he warned.

The man gave him a surprised look but then quickly said:

"Well, _excuse me, _cleric, but I'm disciplining _my child_."

"You're not his father," said Garet.

Then suddenly, a younger man and a woman pushed through the crowd and approached Ivan's father.

"_Dad?_ What's going on?" said the woman.

The man pointed at Ivan and Garet.

"I found _your _brother__ and he's tricked this foolish cleric to take his side."

Garet winced and took a step back. He turned around and upon seeing Isaac, he shoved Ivan, sending the boy tripping into the Earth Adept's arms.

"See what happens when you leave your_ brother _alone!" He yelled at Isaac. "He almost got kidnapped!"

"I-I…" said Isaac, standing rigid and confused. Ivan gasped and then quickly gripped Isaac's blue tunic and pressed his face against his breastplate.

"You want to be heroes, why don't you clear the roads of bandits instead?" asked Ivan's alleged sister. "Now give us our brother back!"

She tried to approach Ivan and Isaac, but Garet positioned himself in her way.

"Back off."

The family exchanged looks. Isaac instinctively put a shaky hand on Ivan's shoulder. He had no idea what to do besides standing there.

"Someone fetch the guards!" shrieked the woman. "These two are trying to kidnap our brother!"

"_Who_ are you calling kidnappers?" said Garet, pointing at the family menacingly, but they yelled louder and drowned out his voice. The daughter and the son even approached the bystanders, directly asking them if they even thought Isaac and Ivan even looked remotely related. The daughter said Ivan was a selfish boy who'd throw himself at anyone just to escape and keep the stolen money. She said their sick mother still needed medicine.

Isaac froze as the bystanders began pointing and talking about him: He and Ivan looked nothing alike; one was tall and pale, the other short and dark. Isaac had been in jail for kidnapping _once_ already. He didn't want to spend _another_ night wrongfully imprisoned! Ivan might look roughed up from travelling but he still looked like a young noble. Isaac looked like a street performer or a bard at best and a poor mercenary at worst. There was nothing that indicated Isaac and Ivan were even close to being related. Why couldn't Garet have said "caretaker" or "servant" or something more feasible?

"_Isaac_… Isaac please." Ivan whimpered and begged him for help. "I don't know them, please… Please don't let them take me away, _please_."

Isaac took a shaky step back, pulling Ivan with him in his retreat. This was a mistake. He would end up in jail again. What if this really was Ivan's father? What if Ivan really was a horrible lying child who ran off with the family savings and his father had chased him all the way from Kalay? It took all of Isaac's self-control to not push Ivan away and run. His gaze flicked around the crowd. He felt a strange wind beginning to rise. Oh no. Ivan was using Psynergy again. No, there were so many people around here. Isaac threw his arms around Ivan, holding the boy in a stiff embrace. The winds blew stronger and Isaac wobbled and staggered aside.

"Stop…" he whispered to Ivan. "_Don't use Psynergy, please_."

He tried to stay calm and think through his options. He didn't want to use his gift to hurt anyone, but he also wanted to protect Ivan. He pulled away, and looked into Ivan's tear-filled eyes. Ivan was so scared, and he chanted Isaac's name like a mantra. The wind began blowing down the vendors' and merchants' tents. Isaac brushed a hand through Ivan's soft blond hair, lowering himself and then guiding Ivan's arms around his neck. Folding his own arms behind the back of the boy's knees, Isaac lifted the little Wind Adept and contemplated to just take Ivan and run.

"What's going on here?" a voice then suddenly sounded from the back of the crowd. Ivan's wind subsided as some of the citizens said the town guards had arrived.

The kidnappers suddenly didn't want to play their game anymore. They pointed at Garet grudgingly and then turned tail, but the Fire Adept grabbed the father.

"Not so fast—" began Garet, but the thug swiftly punched him in the eye and then ran off. Garet cursed and pointed at the direction the kidnappers had taken off, and the watchmen hurried after them. One of the guards checked on Isaac and Ivan, asking for their wellbeing, to which Isaac could only stutter:

"I-I'm fine… W-we're fine."

Isaac blinked his tears away. His heart beat like a drum, and he pressed butterfly kisses against Ivan's hair. It was over. It was all over now. He didn't know how long he stood there, but it felt like hours. When Garet finally approached Isaac and patted him on the shoulder, the Earth Adept instantly remembered his place and dropped Ivan down to his feet.

"What's _wrong_ with you?" said Isaac once the crowd had dispersed. He gestured wildly with all his repressed emotions pouring out like an opened floodgate. "_Why_ did you drag me into this? D-do I look like I want to go back to jail?"

"Were you going to let them take Ivan away then?" asked Garet, carefully blinking his left eye and poking the swelling area below with a finger. "Ssh…"

"I—!" Isaac paused when he caught Ivan's pitiful gaze. "Look at my _face__!_ Do I even look anything like his family?"

"You have… the eyes?"

"_They are the wrong shape, you idiot!_"

"Why are we arguing? It worked out fine!" Garet extended his hands and gestured towards Isaac. "Wait, are you _crying?_"

Isaac blinked and inhaled through his nose.

"_No!_" he said defensively, "_he_ is crying!" He spun around to face Ivan. "How the hell did you end up with those people by the way? Didn't you say you'd be _fine_ on your own?"

Ivan's lips began quivering and his eyes shone with tears again.

"Fine, forget it!" said Isaac, looking away and throwing his hands up in the air, furiously blinking away his own tears. His voice sounded broken as he continued: "It doesn't matter! Just be careful now! _Goodbye!_ _Now_, where did Felix go?"

Seeing that Isaac was trying to save face, Garet pretended he didn't see the tears. Clearing his throat, he stated:

"Someone at the gate saw Felix and the thieves. They were dressed for winter, and mentioned the city of Imil."

"_Imil?_" said Isaac. That's where the Mercury Lighthouse was located.

"Do you think they are going for the Lighthouses?" asked Garet.

The Elemental Lighthouses. Did Felix really intend to use the Elemental Stars to light the Lighthouses? Isaac stared blankly at the air for a moment, but his gaze slowly drifted towards the ground within a few seconds. No. Felix wouldn't. Felix _couldn't!_ But it made sense.

"Whoever is behind this raid must know the Lighthouses' secrets," said Isaac, swallowing and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "Felix grew up in Vale-"

"Wait-wait-_wait__!_" said Garet, raising his hands up in front of his chest. "Are you trying to tell me _Felix_ is the mastermind? Are you telling me _Would-Not-Hurt-A-Fly-Sweet-Felix_ wants to destroy the world?"

Isaac averted his eyes. He knew it sounded insane, but they honestly couldn't tell if that person even was "Sweet Felix" anymore. They didn't know what happened to Felix during the three years he was gone. He might as well have become a completely different person—he _did_ abandon Isaac and Garet in Sol Sanctum, after all.

"Felix is the _only_ one who knows Sol Sanctum and the Lighthouses' secrets," said Isaac, "I _don't_ want it to be him either, but _everything_ points to _him_."

He then spoke slowly, emphasising:

"_He left us to die_ in a volcano. I _want_ to trust him, Garet, I really do. But _can_ we after all the stuff he's done?"

Garet looked away in defeat.

"So what now?"

"North, right?" said Isaac, sighing in defeat. "Let's head there… I don't have a better idea. If Felix wants to use the Elemental Stars, we need to warn the Lighthouse's guardians."

* * *

Assuming the Bilibian temple would help them find a fast messenger to Imil, the Adepts went to the sanctuary to tell the head priest about their plight. Garet said the old temple of Vale had been robbed and showed him Harald's writ.

"I'm not asking for much," said the Fire Adept. "I just need a messenger."

With smiles and concerned looks, the priests welcomed the Adepts in, telling Garet they had access to ink and parchment in their living quarters and that he could write a letter there.

Isaac sighed in relief and decided to rest on a bench in the chapel while Garet left to write the message. He was so tired that he didn't even complain that Ivan had stubbornly followed him from the marketplace. The little Wind Adept seated next to him and hugged Isaac's nearest arm. Believing that Ivan was still shaken up by the event earlier, Isaac lifted the boy up to his lap and closed his arms around him, not wanting to cause a scene. He couldn't utter a single word before Ivan clamped his arms around his neck and used Psynergy, bringing phantom whispers to Isaac's ears.

Isaac heard a disembodied voice speak dismissively about him and Garet, saying they didn't look like templars. Then another voice said Vale had cut off contact with the rest of the world for ages—what right did they have to demand aid now? Finally, he heard a third person say he'd see if he'd _remember_ finding a messenger later.

As the ghastly whispers died away, Isaac's found himself clinging to the little Wind Adept stiffly. He breathed heavily against Ivan's shoulder and his heart raced. Ivan gently brushed his face against his cheek. His tender touch made Isaac's skin crawl. It felt so strange. He was repulsed and scared, but at the same time he didn't want to push Ivan away as if he was his only anchor to this world.

After a moment, Isaac gently pulled away from the hug, and Ivan let him. He stared into Ivan's harebell-coloured eyes. It was so strange. In one moment, Ivan was a scared child. Now, he beckoned to Isaac with a determined and almost icy look. For a moment, Isaac didn't recognize the innocent boy he'd rescued in the marketplace. For a moment, Isaac couldn't decide whether to outright shove the boy to the floor or not. He didn't want to be ungrateful, but he wanted to know why Ivan unexpectedly shared Mindread with him. Was he offering to be _Isaac's_ spy?

Ivan nodded quietly, his gaze still intense and fierce.

"What are you doing?"

Isaac winced. Recognizing Garet's voice, he indignantly replied:

"Hugging, of course."

"Well, if you're done," said Garet with a shrug, "we can leave. Business here is finished."

Isaac glanced at the priests who were looking at him funny. He then lifted Ivan up and carried the boy out of the temple. As soon they were outside, Isaac asked the little Wind Adept:

"Do you know someone who can reliably deliver a message?"

"I-I…" said Ivan, and it sounded as if he was crying again. "I-I do, but their service isn't cheap."

"Wh-what?" said Garet. He immediately bounced right in front of Isaac. "_What?_" he then repeated, louder.

"The priests just humoured you," said Isaac dryly.

"I just wrote a letter for them to deliver—"

"They are not taking us seriously," said Isaac in irritation. "I know this because _Ivan_ shared Mindread with me."

Garet stared at Isaac in shock.

"Did you—?"

"Yes," interrupted Isaac. He didn't want to talk about it.

Ivan ended up pointing them to a building in the innermost parts of the city owned by some famous mercenaries named The Silver Eagles. Two of them were in office but Isaac was intimidated by their fancy gear, doubting that he even had enough money to pay for their services. Garet on the other hand wasn't afraid and tried to negotiate with the leader only to be shown that delivering messages to the backwaters was beneath them.

"Aw, come on, Boss, they look sincere," said the other mercenary. "Look at those brave templars, coming all the way from Vale. Hey, René? Aren't you like… super religious, eh? _Eh?_"

"Charles, I'll take the mission if _you_ ride to Imil, you lout."

"Me? Riding to that backwater town? Surely you jest. Not even Armand would go there at this time of the year. It's freezing!"

Watching their insincere act made Isaac sick and he left the building long before Garet even finished talking to them. He stood outside the building and looked at the cobbled streets, occasionally looking up towards the sky and wondering where Jenna was. It seemed easier to find a needle in a haystack than finding in someone this godforsaken town who'd take him seriously.

Once Garet was done being humiliated by the mercenaries and returned outside, the Adepts agreed to head north as soon as possible and just hope that the priests would keep their word. As Garet made his way towards the north gate, Isaac looked back and saw Ivan finally exiting the mercenaries' headquarters with a nervous frown. The boy lifted his gaze and gave the Earth Adept a smile, quickly heading back to Isaac's side and taking his hand. Isaac smiled back and didn't think much of it. He didn't realize what Ivan meant until Garet pointed it out at the gate:

"I know you want to help," said the Fire Adept, looking at the boy, "but this is _our_ quest. We can walk you to the townhall and ask someone to get you home to Kalay if you want."

If Isaac hadn't been staring at Ivan, he would have missed the terrified expression that appeared on the younger Adept's face for a split second. For a moment, Ivan's desperate gaze wandered between Garet and Isaac's faces. Then, he threw his arms around Isaac's middle and held on for dear life. The Earth Adept cringed and pried the boy away, nervously looking around to see if people were staring at them. But upon hearing Ivan cry, Isaac froze:

"No, please. Don't leave me behind. _Isaac_, please don't leave me!" Ivan wept, reaching out and gripping Isaac's scarf. "I don't belong here, Isaac. I am an _Adept_. I belong with _you_, Isaac. Isaac, _I _need_ you_."

Isaac remembered how he rescued Ivan from the thugs in Vault. They would have killed Ivan if Isaac hadn't walked in on the scene. He remembered how Ivan had looked at Isaac with adoring eyes in the tavern. And he remembered Ivan clinging to him as if he was more than just a stranger he just met. He remembered holding Ivan's hands in the sunset, drawing out his power and making the discovery that Ivan was a Wind Adept.

Yes, Ivan was an Adept. Ivan belonged with other Adepts. Ivan belonged with _him_. Isaac was the first sorcerer Ivan had ever met. Isaac was the person who taught him how to use Psynergy to defend himself. Isaac was the person who told him his powers was a gift, not a curse. He suddenly wondered if Ivan's family knew about his powers since he was adopted.

The younger Adept looked at him with quivering lips and let out a sob. This time when he threw himself at Isaac, the Earth Adept caught him in an embrace. Isaac bent his knees and lowered himself to wrap his arms under Ivan's slender shoulders.

"It's fine," he said, nuzzling the boy. "I won't leave you behind. I promise."

"What?" said Garet, sounding unabashedly cold. "You can't be serious. _Isaac_, I _know_ you like him, but we can't bring a _child_ with us!"

"He can be useful," said Isaac, trying not to shout and scare Ivan.

"We can barely support ourselves!" Garet raised his voice. "We can't afford bringing him!"

"If it's the rations you're worried about, then fine—you don't need to share _yours__._"

"It's not just about the food, you idiot! What if we run into bandits? Are you supposed to protect him and fight thugs at the same time? Or do you want to deal with forest fires when he fails to aim his lightningbolts, _like in Vault_?"

Isaac clutched Ivan tighter.

"I'll teach him to handle his Psynergy. Don't worry about-"

"_Teach him?"_ said Garet. "You mean how you tried teaching _Jenna?_"

"_Don't change the subject!_" Isaac yelled, finally letting go of Ivan and facing Garet. "You _saw_ what happened to him earlier! If we leave him to fend for himself, he'll end up sold into slavery or hurting people with his abilities!"

"Then let's get someone to bring him home! He's _the Merchant King's son_! What if he dies on our watch? Do you even _think_ of the consequences before you act? We're going after people who tried _killing everyone in our village__!_ You have to be an _idiot_ to think he's safe with us!"

Isaac looked down to Ivan, who vigorously shook his head.

"No, Isaac," said Ivan, "_please_ no. Please don't send me back. Please, please, _please_…"

Isaac didn't want to endanger a child. How old could Ivan possibly be? Eleven? Twelve? What if Ivan's family was looking for him? What if the Merchant King was looking for him?—Ivan was a prince in disguise, after all. Isaac lowered himself to Ivan's eye-level and held Ivan's upper arms, trying to be as gentle as possible.

"This kind of life isn't for a prince like you," said Isaac, trying not to upset the boy.

"I'll _learn!_" Ivan pleaded. "I'll learn your ways! I'll do anything you want. Please, Isaac, I belong with you! I'm an Adept!"

"Don't be silly," said Isaac with a smile. "What about your father the Merchant King—?"

"_He's not my father!_"

As soon as those words spontaneously left Ivan's lips, his small hands flew up to cover his mouth in shock. Isaac stared at the frightened boy, who breathed loudly through his nose. Huge tears began rolling down Ivan's cheeks as he stared back at Isaac with desperate pleading eyes.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

If characters break the law or disrupt the peace there will be consequences, and here Isaac and just committed arson and trespassing.

The thieves are not stupid. They would lie to the end of the world if they could pin their crimes on Isaac. Since Isaac is an outsider no one would actually trust him and speak for his innocence (remember what I said about "prestige"?). The fact that he's made enemies with the guards also speaks against him. But luckily, Garet made friends with Jonas the councilman so they are freed. They still get stiffed on the reward because they caused a lot of damage.

Now, I can talk a little more about Ivan. In the game Isaac and Garet don't seem to have any objections to bringing a mindreader along with them even after Ivan broke his promise (and probably kept breaking it offscreen).

In this story, neither Isaac nor Garet are comfortable bringing Ivan along at first judging from their previous interactions in Vault.

Isaac is actually kind of not stupid. He might be somewhat reckless, but he's not stupid. He asks questions and he is suspicious when Ivan just shows up out of nowhere. He's also been tricked by the "bards" and gotten all his stuff stolen. Ivan has to beg to get on board and even then Isaac doesn't trust him and goes through his stuff to see if he isn't really a thief in disguise. But Isaac's not heartless, so he won't just sit and watch Ivan getting kidnapped.

There are reasons for everything that happens, and what happens here in Bilibin will come back later.


	7. – Ivan

**B**e good. Be kind. Help your fellow men and good fortune will come your way. What a pile of nonsense.

Sometimes Isaac wondered why he even bothered trying to help people anymore. His kindness always went unnoticed, while his mistakes kept being brought up in every discussion.

So he made another decision, great—and another mistake. So he brought a child with him on the journey and now he'd realized how much trouble it was to keep Ivan healthy and alive. But what was he supposed to do? Ivan outright told him he'd been disowned!

"I'm sure there's an orphanage around here," had Garet the Great suggested. "Or… we can ask the temple if they can take him in as a novice? How about that?"

Both were solid solutions to the problem of Ivan. Isaac wasn't particularly fond of sending him to an orphanage, but life in the clergy was said to be good. That's the life most Adepts outside Vale would choose, and by joining the temple, Ivan would get to put his Psynergy to good use in helping people. Yet, against better judgment, Isaac stubbornly decided to keep the boy with him.

Because Ivan told him he ran all the way from Vault to the Goma Range for _him_. Ivan told him the Merchant King abandoned him because he was so useless that he couldn't even keep an eye on a _single_ item. He said he tricked Isaac to help him recover the treasure in hopes of winning back his Master Hammet's favour. And after that failure, all he could think of was _Isaac_.

Isaac, who'd been so kind and helped him. Isaac who'd rescued him from the thugs and saved his life. Isaac, who taught him how to defend himself with Psynergy. Isaac, who told him he wasn't a freak or a demon—but an Adept like everyone else in his village.

While Isaac had expected certain degree of inconvenience in having Ivan around, he hadn't expected to lose _that _much sleep over him.

First, there was the food. Having Ivan around meant another mouth to feed. That alone wasn't too bad, but Ivan's stomach was picky even if his mouth was not. Most of the time, he seemed as if he was being forced to eat sawdust, and he started having stomach problems after the first two days. Later, Isaac deduced that Ivan couldn't drink milk.

Isaac wasn't stupid. He didn't expect the boy to hunt, trap or even fish. But he expected him to be able to help out cooking or making a fire. He used to be a servant, right? He could do _that_, right?

Hah, _wrong_. He couldn't cook. He couldn't make a fire. Heck, he couldn't even tie a proper knot! What kind of servant was he? A _cupbearer?_ No wonder he was disowned! Sure, Ivan _tried_ helping, but he either failed or did a sloppy job, be it preparing food or setting up the tent. Isaac always had to redo everything anyway and Ivan's "help" only added more work to the task.

And as if that wasn't enough, the boy began complaining about chafed feet, which meant Isaac had to heal him every evening—because Garet didn't bother taking a _single_ lesson in healing despite spending _three years_ in the priests' tutelage.

Ivan's hands reminded Isaac a lot of Felix's. His unmarred palms and soft fingers spoke for an owner who had never held a logging tool or a weapon before. Isaac remembered how calloused his own hands were from chores when he was Ivan's age, and the more he thought of it the angrier he became with himself. Why didn't he listen to Garet when he told him to leave Ivan in more capable hands? This kid couldn't even take care of himself—how was he supposed to help Isaac?

Ivan looked more tired for each passing day. For each passing day, the little Wind Adept became paler and weaker—even after Isaac relieved him of all his duties and began sending him off to sleep early. After the first week, Isaac started looking for opportunities to get rid of Ivan, but he realized he'd missed the last boat at the farmlands north of Bilibin.

By the end of the second week, they had reached the Bilibian Ridges. The further into the north they ventured, the colder it became. Isaac's anger and frustration with Ivan had turned to worry. He'd watched Ivan cry himself to sleep every night, apologizing to Isaac for not meeting his expectations. Ivan would cry himself to sleep, promising to learn. But while his will was strong, his body was not. When he forced himself to walk the miles Isaac and Garet walked each day, he only ended up overexerting himself and collapsing on the road. Isaac had chided him, but he'd then resigned to carry Ivan for the rest of the day. They were still trying to beat Felix to Imil so they couldn't keep taking breaks just to let the boy rest.

The real nightmare came when they reached the northlands after getting past the mountains. Here, they were greeted by frigid winds and early winter. The land was covered in snow and there were no shelters to be seen in the miles of tundra ahead.

They travelled as fast they could, but still couldn't find refuge before nightfall. Ivan quickly began lagging behind and once a nightly blizzard blew up he dropped to his hands and knees in the snow ten paces behind Isaac. The boy cried to Isaac for help, but the Earth Adept was already stressed out by their current predicament and snapped at Ivan in response.

"_Get up__!"_ said Isaac, shouting against the roaring wind. "Get up or we'll leave you here!" But once he saw Ivan kneeling miserably in the snow, he hurried back and scooped the boy up in his arms, cursing under his breath as he carried Ivan to Garet's side.

"We can't keep going like this!" said the Fire Adept, turning around in the darkness and whirling snow. "Isaac, we need to rest."

"Rest? _Where?_" asked Isaac. "We need to find shelter!"

"_Look_ at him and look at _you!_" replied Garet. "_He_ can't walk another step and _you're_ _shaking!_ We _need_ to make camp!"

Isaac renewed his hold on Ivan. He looked sideways past the road but he couldn't see anything but snow in the wind.

"I see trees there!" Garet shouted and pointed off the road towards what looked like a few old firs. He extended his hands and a small flame came to life from his fingertips and began floating in front of the Adepts like a guiding wisp. "Let's go!"

Unable to see anything but Garet's shadow and the light of the wisp, Isaac followed his friend closely. He could hear Ivan crying against his shoulder, but he couldn't grasp any words the boy tried to convey through tears.

"Let me carry him," said Garet, suddenly stopping and turning back to Isaac.

"_No_, keep going!" replied the Earth Adept, despite how encumbered he was. "I'm too tired to use Psynergy! You have to _lead the way!_" His legs started to feel heavy. The snow was so deep and the cold wind only made everything worse—it was a miracle he didn't trip while lumbering towards the damn trees.

Warm light illuminated the area as Garet started preparing a campsite behind the trees. A ring of fire briefly appeared on the ground, clearing away the snow before turning into a flurry of red sparks and vanishing. The Fire Adept made sweeping gestures, using his Psynergy to gather all the revealed branches and leaves into a pile and then lit a campfire with a flick of his wrist.

Isaac set the freezing Wind Adept down near the fire and then shook off his bags. He opened his rucksack and retrieved a blanket, putting it around Ivan before reaching for the tent. Garet kept using Psynergy, tearing down large fir branches and moving them to make an improvised lean-to. Isaac's vision was severely hampered by darkness and the blizzard, so he had to use Psynergy to raise the tent, moving all the pieces with his mind. He was already weary from carrying Ivan and most of the luggage so once the job was done, he was ready to collapse on the ground. Still, Isaac dragged Ivan into the tent and threw him the bedrolls and blankets before wobbling over to help Garet finish building the shelter.

"Go sleep!" said Garet. "Look at you! You _need_ to rest. I'll finish this and take first watch."

Isaac would normally argue when Garet talked down to him, but decided it was better to yield this time. Barely keeping his eyes open, he pitifully crawled into the tent, collapsing on the bedroll Ivan wasn't occupying. He could hear the boy crying next to him as usual. Isaac pulled his cloak around himself, still trying to catch his breath. He was so tired. He wasn't even complaining that Ivan was hogging both blankets. He just wanted Ivan to keep quiet for just one night.

"Can you be quiet?" asked Isaac, but to his dismay, Ivan only sobbed louder.

Isaac felt an urge to slap the boy. He couldn't tell if the kid was deliberately being insufferable to spite him or not anymore. He had put up with Ivan's crying for the last fifteen nights, but he didn't have the patience or energy to deal with it _now_.

"Ugh… please, can you shut up for _one_ night?" he said, covering his ears with his hands. "I _need_ to sleep."

Closing his eyes, Isaac thought of better times. He thought of a warm bath and a warm meal. He thought of sitting huddled with someone he loved in front of a warm fireplace in his home, and counting the sparks until he was asleep.

Isaac didn't know how long he slept. He didn't even know if he'd slept at all, but he opened his eyes when Ivan's voice disrupted his dreams. The boy was no longer wailing, but he was making pathetic noises that—though quieter—were even more annoying. Groggily, Isaac nudged Ivan with his elbow, but the boy ignored him entirely. This was unusual, since Ivan normally would try to keep quiet for five seconds if Isaac pushed him.

Ivan was apologizing for his incompetence, but he wasn't directing his words to Isaac. He was apologizing to his parents, saying he was a coward. He said he couldn't be the son they wanted him to be, saying they should not miss him. He listed up names—people Isaac didn't know or even had heard of. Again, Ivan apologized, saying he didn't deserve them. He told them to not miss him. And then, with a half-sob, he said _good-bye_.

Isaac's heart skipped a beat and he sprung up on his haunches. Ivan lay on his side with his back facing towards him, breathing calmly against the bedroll. Even though Isaac had wished for silence, he was worried for the boy's wellbeing now.

"Hey…" said Isaac, cautiously putting a warm hand on Ivan's arm and shaking him slightly. "Ivan?"

He squeezed Ivan's arm lightly, following it to his limp hand. Feeling that something was off, Isaac shook off his gloves and took Ivan's hand in his, caressing the cold skin with his thumbs. Ivan's hand was cold and hard and the skin felt almost waxy—this might as well have been a block of ice.

"_H-hey_…" said Isaac. His heart began racing as he pulled Ivan into his arms, propping the boy up against his shoulder. "Ivan, can you hear me? Can you _feel_ your hands, Ivan?"

He cast a look down towards Ivan's legs, recalling the moments Ivan had dragged his feet through deep snow and repeatedly tripped and fallen to his hands and knees. He lowered the little Wind Adept on the bedroll again and then took off Ivan's shoes, being as gentle as he could. Then, placing his hands on Ivan's frigid feet, Isaac found that the frostbites here were even worse.

Could he heal this? Maybe, but probably not. Isaac never had any proper medical training and without the knowledge of how to _mend_ injuries he might make things worse. Sure, he could close wounds in skin and flesh, but he had never dealt with anything more but bruises, light burns and small cuts. Saints, Isaac even possessed the wrong Element to deal with these kinds of injuries. He cast a glance towards the light shining through the tent-cloth. If only Garet had taken time to learn basic healing this would've been easily fixed. Fire was warm and would have worked wonders on Ivan's frostbites. _Earth?_ Earth was a cold element and Ivan was frosty enough.

Ivan breathed weakly with his eyes half-lidded. His gaze was blank. Isaac understood that something had to be done or Ivan would surely die. And it would be _Isaac's_ fault because he didn't pay any attention to what happened earlier. That thought alone terrified him, but what could he do? He wondered what his father would do? What would Captain Kyle in his infinite wisdom do?

Isaac looked at the boy's unresponsive face again. _No_, he couldn't let Ivan _die_. With fast hands, he opened the brooch holding his thick wool cloak and then gathered all the blankets. He couldn't rely on his Psynergy to fix every problem. Stacking the fabric, he made a thick duvet and placed it over Ivan. After that, he kicked off his boots and began shedding his clunky armour. Magic was a powerful tool, his father had told him, but it had limits. He was an Adept, but he was a human first and foremost, and he should not let his magic define him.

Slipping under the covers, Isaac pulled the little Wind Adept close to him. He pressed his legs against Ivan's frostbitten feet and shoved Ivan's frigid hands under his wool tunic and linen shirt. The cold made him shudder and he clamped his limbs around Ivan, locking the boy in a tight embrace. The younger Adept mewled, beginning to twist and turn in discomfort.

"Don't move," he hissed at Ivan. Couldn't this brat see that he was freezing to death? This wasn't the time to feel _embarrassed__._

Ivan whined again, still weakly resisting.

"Don't move," said Isaac, "I'm trying to help you."

The boy let out a weak cry.

"You're making it _worse!_" said Isaac with his voice raised.

The light outside flickered and a shadow moved towards the tent. Isaac instantly pressed Ivan's face against his chest and pulled the blankets over the little Wind Adept's head before Garet could lift the tent flap.

"What are you doing?" said the friend flatly, questioning the scene.

"Hugging," said Isaac. He moved a hand to grip Ivan's shoulder in a claw-like grasp under the blankets. "_I'm keeping him warm!_" He almost shouted in irritation. "Are you done gawking yet?"

The friend gave him a confused look but then carefully closed the tent up. Sighing in relief, Isaac loosened his tight hold on Ivan a little.

"My dad once saved a pilgrim in midwinter with frostbites like yours," said Isaac. "His fingers blistered and rotted so they had to be cut off. Because Psynergy can't fix everything. You want me to cut off your limbs one week later? No? Then _lie still_."

Ivan let out a long gasp and then began weeping pathetically, his nose quickly getting clogged with tears.

"Just lie still," said Isaac, trying to hide the apparent disgust in his voice.

The boy sobbed, and hiccups punctured his crying every now and then. After a minute or two, Isaac sighed in defeat and tucked his fingers under Ivan's hair, stroking the back of his neck comfortingly. Ivan shuddered at first, but then buried his face in Isaac's chest. His fingers were slightly curled, as if he'd lost control of most parts of his hands, and he brushed them against Isaac's skin, maybe trying to speed up the defrosting.

"Don't rub," said Isaac.

Ivan obliged without a word.

"Don't cry," Isaac then whispered, but his voice still sounded too raspy for the kindness he wanted to convey. He had little experience in comforting and being comforted by people. He copied some phrases he'd heard from Felix and Jenna:

"Don't be afraid. Everything will be all right."

Hearing that it sounded unnatural, he buried his nose in Ivan's hair in shame. He had to keep Ivan calm somehow though.

"Ivan, how old are you?" he then asked, weaving his fingers into the soft blond strands on the back of Ivan's head. Maybe this could be the perfect opportunity to get some answers too.

"_Twelve_," replied Ivan, snivelling. "N-no… E-eleven a-and a half…"

_Eleven_. He was even younger than Garet's kid brother. Isaac knew the little Wind Adept was young and naive, but not _that_ young.

"Of all the people you could have turned to for help, why choose me, Ivan?"

The little Wind Adept sniffled, not answering the question. Right, he didn't have another choice, did he? If he had a choice, he wouldn't come seeking help from the person who almost murdered him in Vault.

Isaac brushed his lips against the top of Ivan's head and continued stroking the back of his neck. Ivan wriggled a little in his embrace. He was clearly still embarrassed and didn't seem to enjoy having his arms bent up in front of him with his hands against the Earth Adept's chest.

"Can you feel your hands?" asked Isaac tentatively, feeling that Ivan's hands no longer were frigid ice.

No reply.

"You have to tell me," said Isaac, almost begging. "I can't help you if you don't tell me."

The little Wind Adept shook his head.

"All right. Where else do you feel numb?"

"T-toes… Ea-ears. E-everywhere. D-don't… know…"

Isaac sighed. He closed his eyes and focused his mind, channelling his Psynergy into a healing spell. The boy gasped, moving his arms around to hug Isaac tightly—maybe too tightly even. Isaac shuddered as his spell took form. It felt as if a cold wind cut through his entire being and chilled the blood in his veins.

Fingers. Toes. Hands. Feet. He focused on those areas as he healed Ivan, not stopping until he began feeling the heavy weight of his own limbs. He was tapped; exhausted in body and spirit, and his spell had left him cold and vulnerable. Even so, he wondered if he could possibly still take over watch after this.

Ivan began moving his hands more freely now, his fingers actively grasping after something.

"Stop clawing on me," said Isaac, whispering through clenched teeth. He barely had enough strength to talk. Ivan had soft palms and fingertips, but he really needed to cut his nails.

"D-do you want me to leave?" asked Isaac, slowly letting go of the little Wind Adept.

Ivan, however, nuzzled him and shifted around to make himself more comfortable in Isaac's embrace. Ivan's breathing evened and he let out a pleased little moan. His hands finally rested on Isaac's warm back, holding the Earth Adept close.

Isaac smiled and began humming a lullaby his father used to sing. Halfway through the melody, he closed his weary eyes and fell asleep. He remembered how it felt to be afraid like this. He remembered being lost, lonely and cold too. But he didn't have someone to hold him and keep him warm. He didn't have someone to tell him not to be afraid. He didn't have someone to dry his tears and cradle him in a loving embrace. And when _his_ saviour found him all that came afterwards was shame and humiliation.

* * *

He woke up lying sideways on the bedroll, tucked in the warmth of blankets and Ivan's arms. The little Wind Adept breathed slowly against his chest, dreaming peacefully. His arms were tucked high up under Isaac's shirt and his warm hands lay curled against Isaac's shoulder blades.

It was comfortable. It was so comfortable that for a moment, Isaac wanted to bury his face in Ivan's hair and fall back to sleep. But then he realized the campfire outside had burnt out and jolted free from Ivan's embrace. He quickly tucked the boy in, making sure the warmth stay with Ivan before slipping on his boots and hurrying out of the tent.

The chilling cold nipped his skin and he was greeted by the blue and snowy landscape. Crows cawed in the distance and the weather was calm. It wasn't really morning yet, but it was starting to get bright. Regretting not bringing his cloak, Isaac wrapped his arms around himself. He looked towards the finished lean-to made of fir branches and spotted Garet lying there under it with his cloak tucked around him and the hood pulled over his head.

"Garet?" said Isaac. When he stepped closer and nudged the Fire Adept with his foot, Garet curled up, mumbling something in his sleep.

Sighing in relief, Isaac went back to the tent to fetch his cloak, being careful not to wake Ivan in the process. Exiting and closing up the tent carefully, he then fastened the cloak around his shoulders with the brooch and flipped the hood over his head. Even though it no longer snowed, the air was cold enough that he could see his own breath.

He swept some snow off the tent, gathered some more twigs and grass, and then went back to rekindle the campfire with his flint and steel. Sitting on his knees, he kept striking the flint with the steel over and over, but the sparks from the flint wouldn't ignite the grass and wood.

Isaac looked towards Garet and sighed.

Fire was a powerful element. It was beautiful yet intimidating. Fire warmed _and_ burned. It purged and healed. It was a symbol of strength. If Isaac could choose his gift, he'd have picked Fire any day. Earth? Unless one was Kyle, Hero of Vale or Felix the Wonder Child with the Healing Hands, Earth was just a tool for farmers. And maybe that's what he was meant to be—a glorified farmer.

Suddenly, Isaac heard the sound of shuffling around cloth, and looking behind him he saw Ivan crawling out of the tent with the blankets draped over his small shoulders. He approached Isaac, stopping behind him, but he didn't say a word. Isaac continued to work with the flint and steel. The sparks kept flying but he couldn't produce a flame. Finally, he stopped and tore off a bit of wool fabric from his cloak, reaching out for a piece of wood to wrap it around when he found a slight smoke rising from the pile of twigs and grass. Looking up, he saw Ivan standing with his eyes closed, mouthing words in silence while using Psynergy.

"Here, put some sparks on this," said Isaac. He reached out to place the wool on top of the twigs, but Ivan electrified him with a spell. "_Aah!_"

Withdrawing his hand, Isaac clutched his wrist and cast a healing spell to sooth the pain. The boy frantically apologized but Isaac ignored him. As the searing pain on his arm slowly vanished, Isaac moved his fingers, testing—everything was fine, but now a weird pattern scarred the back of his arm.

"_Why?_" said Isaac, staring at the disfigurement and wrenching his hand in frustration.

"I-I just want to help!" Ivan cried and raised his arms, as if he was afraid Isaac would punch him.

"Well, _don't_," said Isaac, crossing his hands in front of him and then making a sweeping gesture towards the boy. He then picked up his flint and steel and continued working on the campfire. After a moment, the wool patch caught fire and he carefully spread the flame to the rest of the wood. Content, Isaac smiled at the blazing campfire and extended his hands to warm them. And that's when he noticed Ivan's sniffling.

"Cry, cry, cry…" said Isaac, shaking his head with a sigh. "Is that all you do nowadays? Why don't you go back to sleep instead?"

"I want to stay with you," said Ivan weakly. "I… I want to talk."

Isaac rolled his eyes as he stopped poking around the fire with a stick. He looked back to see that Ivan's hands were still defensively raised. Why was he scared? Isaac didn't hit him last night for being a burden and he wasn't going to hit him now either.

"You… asked me a question… last night," said Ivan with a cracked voice.

"I asked you many questions last night," said Isaac, looking back at the fire.

"You asked me why I came back to you…"

Isaac remained silent for a moment, staring into the flames.

"Well, you already had the staff?" he then said, speaking in a softer tone. He then looked up at Ivan. "You lost it because you went to Bilibin with me. Why didn't you go back to your master?"

"I told you in Bilibin…" said Ivan. "Master Hammet is stuck in Lunpa," he whispered. "I-I… I couldn't get in. I can't go back to Kalay. Everyone will think it's my fault. They'll hate me. I… I _can't_…."

Seeing that Ivan was close to tears, Isaac raised his hands and showed Ivan his palms.

"Fine, let's forget about that," he said, rolling his eyes. "But since you lied to me about being a prince, I want to know who you really are. Tell me about your _real_ parents and how you ended up as the Merchant King's cupbearer, because I need to know how to send you home."

Ivan pressed his quivering lips together.

"They l-left me," he began stammering. "My parents; they left me."

"Left you?" Isaac questioned with a slight chuckle. "What do you mean they _left you_?"

His cold attitude vanished when the boy began crying:

"Th-they didn't w-want me. _I don't know_." Ivan covered his face with his hands. "Told me they'd buy something." He sobbed. "Told me to wait on the town square. I waited. I waited and waited but… they… they…"

As his words were drowned out by crying, Isaac stood up on his knees and put his arms around the boy, letting Ivan cry into him safely. He then gently pulled Ivan down, letting the little Wind Adept sit on his lap as he folded his cloak around him. From Ivan's next few broken sentences, Isaac gathered that his parents were travellers who never stayed in one place. Brushing his nose against Ivan's tousled hair, Isaac felt guilty about making the boy reopen old wounds for his curiosity. Still, there were a few more things he needed to know.

"Is Ivan even your real name?" asked Isaac.

"Real… name?" said Ivan.

"That's the prince's name, not yours, right? Or do you share a name?"

"Y-yes… His Highness is also named Ivan."

"Does he look like you too? Is that why you could impersonate him?"

Isaac wondered if the boy only managed to fool him because he was a stupid peasant who didn't know any better.

"No… His Highness… is very different from me. He's older than me. He… he's strong... confident… _brave_." Ivan trailed off. "He's very smart, wise beyond his years as people say. Master Hammet has high hopes for him... Me… I'm small, weak, too naïve for my own good… a-and… I'm a coward. E-everyone steps on me and leaves me behind. N-no one wants me…"

Isaac didn't know what to say. He knew Adepts had to hide outside Vale, but he didn't expect to find a child abandoned by his parents and who later ended up being used by a merchant as a lie detector.

"_Shh_, don't cry," he said. "_I_ want you, Ivan, _I_ care about you. I'll take care of you, I promise."

He brushed Ivan's tears away with the back of his hand, bringing a weak smile to the boy's face. He then realized how uncomfortable Ivan looked with that forced smile and slowly urged the little Wind Adept to get off his lap. Isaac wanted to slap himself for saying all that tripe—who in hell, heaven, or earth talked like that? He should've stuck to stealing Felix's phrases.

He avoided Ivan's eyes for a moment, and his gaze came to rest on the little Wind Adept's bare hands. Seeing the cracked skin on the back of his hands, Isaac used his Psynergy and healed him again. Yet, when he saw Ivan's poor shoes, he realized that the boy would be freezing again if he didn't do something about them.

He went to his bags and took out one of his extra tunics, cutting up some of the seams with his knife. Then he tore it into two similar halves, much to Ivan's surprise and confusion. Returning to Ivan near the campfire and kneeling in front of him, Isaac asked the boy to take off his shoes.

Ivan obeyed, even though he didn't seem to know what Isaac was doing. Isaac inspected his feet, finding no blisters or visible injuries.

"Can you feel this?" asked Isaac, pressing down on some of the toes. The boy resisted a laugh and wiggled his toes, looking away in embarrassment. Isaac smiled. He was surprised his healing worked perfectly since it was the first time he healed frostbites.

"Do you feel anything wrong with your feet or hands?" he asked, just to be sure.

"N-no."

He began covering the boy's feet with the cloth that used to be his wool tunic, carefully folding it over Ivan's soft feet and then slipping his shoes back on top of the footwraps. When he was finished, Ivan timidly complimented him.

"You're such a good person," he said, making the Earth Adept cringe.

"Don't flatter me," said Isaac.

"I _mean_ it," Ivan wilfully insisted, but Isaac chose to pretend he didn't hear that, still being ashamed of the tripe he said moments earlier.

"I'm an Adept," said Isaac, equally annoyed as he was embarrassed, "I'm a Messenger of Good. Helping people is what I do."

Looking up, he saw the first rays of sunlight hit the top of Ivan's head. The boy wiggled his feet and touched the part of the fabric that stuck up from the shoes.

Sitting again, Isaac began cutting at the end of his cloak, removing about ten inches of fabric and cutting it into ribbons.

"Your hands, please," said Isaac, and Ivan allowed him to wrap his hands and wrists too. "Feels warmer now?" he asked with an encouraging smile afterwards.

Ivan nodded and his returning smile made Isaac's heart swell with joy. He untied his scarf and lightly wrapped it around Ivan's neck and the lower half of his face. He then pulled the silk hood attached to Ivan's cloak over his head. When Isaac stifled a laugh, the boy averted his eyes and buried his nose in the yellow scarf.

"You look silly," said Isaac with a slight smile, "but at least you're warm, right?"

Ivan looked back at him with his harebell-coloured eyes. He looked so hopeful and he stared at Isaac for so long that the Earth Adept began feeling uncomfortable. Isaac grinned awkwardly. He stood up and then averted his eyes, searching for an excuse to leave the boy alone. Ivan lowered his eyebrows in a frown for a moment. He then suddenly launched himself towards Isaac, throwing his arms around the Earth Adept's neck.

"_H-hey!_" Isaac yelped and pried the boy away almost immediately, giving Ivan a serious stare. "I get it, you're grateful."

He watched Ivan look away and shakily stroke the side of his arm. Isaac shook his head and sighed. He levitated his bag to his lap, dug up a loaf of bread and cut up half of it for Ivan to eat.

The boy awkwardly held the food in his wrapped hands and then bit into the dry bread. He made a face when he began eating and then a small noise when he swallowed with difficulty. Isaac quickly uncapped his water pouch to let Ivan wash the bread down with the liquid.

"Eat slowly, there is no rush," said Isaac, taking a bite from his own food. If they had more supplies, he probably could have made a good soup or stew to go with the bread—Ivan certainly would have appreciated that, but for now hard bread was all they had. As the sun rose in the horizon, Isaac noticed Ivan staring at him again.

"I want to be strong like you, Isaac," said Ivan suddenly. "You… you said you'd teach me magic, didn't you, Isaac?"

The Earth Adept averted his eyes. He didn't expect that request, but he did promise Garet to make Ivan a useful member of the team. With a slight nod, Isaac gestured Ivan to come closer.

He drew some crude figures on the new-fallen snow and began explaining the concepts of magic and mind and the nature of Psynergy. He told Ivan about the possibilities and limitations of magic. And he found himself being a poor teacher, stuttering, and repeating himself. Even so, Ivan listened intently—so intently that Isaac felt unsure of himself, feeling as if he was a child trying to teach another child. It was one thing teaching Jenna, or a person who was familiar with Psynergy, and other thing to teach a child who'd believed his power was a curse for his entire life.

"Do I have to shout 'lightning bolt' every time?" asked Ivan, referring to the time in Vault when Isaac gave him a bad shortcut to magical success. "Sometimes… it doesn't even work."

Back in Vault, he'd simply told Ivan he could rain down lightning at will if he just "believed hard enough" in his abilities. He told him to point, gesture and yell—it was a stupid and dangerous way to get around his uneducated mind. And it had ended badly when Ivan put his abilities to the test as well. Now, when he had to teach Ivan properly, he realized he might not have the skill to deal with a wide-eyed child.

"Isaac?"

His self-consciousness eased when Ivan rested a hand on his arm and looked up at him with worried eyes. This child, he truly believed Isaac was a masterful instructor, didn't he?

"Do you shout when you use Mindread?" said Isaac, giving the little Wind Adept a reassuring smile. "No, you've mastered that ability and it comes to you naturally. Spellwords are good when you need a quick attack, but they are actually really unreliable. Most spells are much more complicated than just calling down lightning."

Isaac paused. He said all those things as if he knew what he was talking about, but he actually only drew conclusions from his own experience with Psynergy.

"It's all about how fast you can make a precise command in your head," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "Like... my stone arrow spell. I need to conjure shards of flint first and then I have to aim it. It's very slow when you're still learning the ropes, but it becomes better once you learn that all the control lies in your own mind."

"Did you invent that spell yourself?" asked Ivan. "What's your spellword for it?"

"I figured it out on my own, but many Adept have done something similar before. I don't use spellwords at all. If you're skilled, you don't really need any of the theatrics."

"So I could stand still and do it quietly?"

"You already do it with Mindread, right?"

Ivan nodded, dipping the lower part of his face into the scarf.

"But you better move around in you were to duel, or your opponent will just rush and cut you down."

"You duel?"

"Heh, you _have_ to spar if you want to become a fighter."

"Oh…"

Ivan broke eye-contact and then looked towards the campfire. A little wind swirled around the camp, lifting Isaac's hair and caressing his face. Isaac knew it came from Ivan since it was warm and comforting despite the weather. The boy wasn't using any words or gestures or even closing his eyes.

"You're a fast learner," said Isaac with a smile.

Ivan stemmed his Psynergy and smiled back with an adoring look in his eyes.

"You're a good teacher," he replied.

Isaac shuddered. His cheeks and the tip of his ears tingled, but Ivan didn't seem to have noticed his reaction.

"Why don't you try lightning again?" he then asked, pointing at a large snow-covered rock on the plains. "Try hitting that rock over there."

Ivan's smile vanished. Once again, he shyly buried his nose in the scarf. For a while, the boy sat quietly, looking down at the fire. Then finally, he admitted he was scared of the destructive side of his powers. He said when he struck down wild animals attacking him on the way to the Goma Range, he couldn't stop thinking about what it would've looked like if it had been a person. He said he didn't want to wield that kind of power. Finally, with a quiver in his voice, he asked Isaac if he had ever killed a person with Psynergy before.

For a moment, Isaac stared at the boy. He had never thought about it that way. He'd never been afraid of his own powers. Earth was a steadfast element. It _could_ be deadly, but it wasn't destructive by default. The first time Isaac cast Psynergy, he made flowers in Kay's garden bloom. His further training led him to healing and restoration. Then came magnetism and telekinesis. When he finally got to experience the destructive side of his element, he was already confident in his own abilities that it felt no different than shooting with a bow or swinging a sword.

He studied Ivan's troubled expression, recognizing his fear. He'd seen it in Jenna's eyes before. The first time she cast Psynergy, she ended up burning down a barn. As the villagers rescued her from the inferno, she swore up and down that she would never use magic again. Ivan only knew how to use his power to spy on people's thoughts before Isaac taught him how to summon winds and call down lightning. His first taste of power was blowing up a roof and setting an inn on fire, so Isaac could see why the boy was afraid.

Isaac put a hand on Ivan's shoulder, trying to ease his fears.

"Can you teach me healing?" asked Ivan, looking up towards him with hope. "You're always so tired after healing me every evening," he then added, looking away.

"Uh…"

He would've loved to teach Ivan how to heal, but that required more knowledge of Ivan's powers. He knew how Fire and Earth worked and he had some knowledge of the aspects of Water, but he knew close to nothing about Wind Psynergy. There hadn't been a Wind Adept born in Vale for maybe a good two hundred years. Ivan was special in that way.

Were there any books in the temple that documented Wind Adept skills? Or maybe Ivan could invent his own spells. He was timid, but he was also very smart and a swift learner. If he was more comfortable playing with the wind, then he probably should master the wind first.

"Each element is different," said Isaac finally. "I don't know enough about Wind Psynergy to teach you healing."

"Didn't you learn healing first though?"

"My element's main property is rejuvenation, so learning healing and energy transfers first is just natural. Fire and Wind are both destructive in nature. I don't know about Wind, but Fire requires a _huge_ amount of discipline and practice to use as healing. Every year there's at least one story about a novice causing a burn by mistake."

Isaac placed his hands on the sides of Ivan's upper arms and turned the boy to face him.

"You really need to practice," said Isaac, "since you control something as deadly as _lightning_." Seeing Ivan's hesitation, he added: "I can teach you how to use a sword instead if you want."

Ivan nodded slowly, but he still seemed quite uncertain, closing the blankets around himself and whispering:

"I don't want to be a burden to you…"

"Don't worry," replied Isaac, smiling, "you're doing well. You're a quick learner, and you figured out how to use Mindread on your own. When I was your age, I could only dream of having half your talent."

Ivan looked up. His harebell-coloured eyes glimmered and his hair shone in the sun. And before Isaac could say another word, the boy had caught him in a tight embrace.

"You're so kind, Isaac," said Ivan. "You're such a warm and kind-hearted person. Why do you force yourself to be mean and cruel?"

Isaac shuddered, his arms twitching uncomfortably, but he couldn't bring himself to shove Ivan away this time. Hesitantly, he raised a hand to pet Ivan's hair, but then looked away searching for excuses to pry him off. His gaze finally stayed on Garet, who was sitting under the lean-to, eating. Meeting Isaac's gaze, the Fire Adept grinned snidely and slowly clapped his hands.

Hearing that, Ivan gasped and quickly let go, but Isaac closed his arms around the little Wind Adept and glared back at the friend under the lean-to.

"How long have you been awake?" said Isaac lowly, causing the boy to tense up in alarm and discomfort.

"Long enough to see you start behaving like a decent person again," replied Garet with a shrug.

"Very funny," said Isaac. He then firmly lifted Ivan off from his lap and returned to his tent to retrieve the rest of his gear. After putting his armour and gloves back on, he gathered the bedrolls and went back out to see Garet sitting next to Ivan with his dumb smile. The friend jokingly punched Ivan on the shoulder, making fun of his new look by calling him a girl:

"_Say_, have we met before, fair maiden? I've seen that scarf from somewhere—"

"_Knock it off!_" Isaac shouted, throwing the bedrolls on the ground and staring at Garet in disbelief.

The friend looked back at him in surprise, defensively throwing his hands up in the air and saying he was just joking.

"He was freezing _all night_," said Isaac, still seething. "The last thing he needs to worry about is you making fun of his looks!"

Garet shook his head with a sigh while Ivan desperately grabbed the Fire Adept's arm.

"It's fine," said Garet, petting Ivan's head. "We've always been like this."

Seeing that he'd overreacted, Isaac took a few steps away from the campfire. He could hear Garet complain about him being unable to take a joke. Folding his arms over his chest, Isaac looked over the horizon and down the hills. He sighted rising smoke coming from what seemed like small houses near the frozen river. Was that a settlement or were they already that close to Imil?

* * *

They reached the farming village by midday. It was silent and the place seemed almost abandoned.

As they approached one of the homes, Garet demanded Isaac to stay quiet, saying he'd take care of the talking. The Earth Adept rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air, saying he'd pretend to be a mute if that's what Garet wanted. He followed the friend to the farmhouse, but stayed back with Ivan at the fence while the Fire Adept knocked on the door.

Ivan lent against the side of his arm. He shivered a little, feeling cold. Isaac silently slipped his arms around the boy and hugged him, but that caused Ivan to gasp and push him away. He let go, wondering what was wrong but then realized he had pressed his frigid breastplate against the boy. Thankfully, Garet returned to the group in time to free him from the awkward moment.

"No one is home," said the friend. "Let's continue."

Isaac nodded. As they left the house, he cast a glance towards one of the windows and saw a face in the shadows quickly slip away. He looked at his dirty clothes, wondering if anyone would want to open the door for them.

They continued down the abandoned road, arriving to the second house. Again, Garet knocked on the door, saying he was a templar from Vale. The old door creaked opened and a wrinkly old man peaked out. He cast a glance at Garet and then at Isaac and Ivan, before gesturing to them to come in.

Isaac lowered his hood as he followed Garet into the house. It was a simple dwelling, not much different from Isaac's own humble home. The farmer had a grandchild it seemed—a little girl with dark pigtails. She wore a red and white dress and seemed to be a bit younger than Ivan—nine or ten years old at most.

"Nina, get some bowls for the guests, will you?" said the grandfather.

Garet thanked the family for the hospitality. Isaac, having sworn his silence simply nodded in courtesy. Over food, the Adepts were told it would be difficult to get to Imil on foot.

"Did something happen on the road?" asked Garet, concerned. "Bandits?"

"No bandits," said the old man, whose name was Rurik. He touched the side of his right arm. "Animals, wild beasts."

Isaac snorted. Animals didn't pose a threat to him. Besides, Garet and Ivan were Fire and Wind Adepts respectively. What made animals run away in fear? Fire, thunder and lighting.

"I think well be fine," said Garet. "Isaac is a very good hunter."

"No, you don't understand," said Rurik. "These animals… They don't act like normal beasts. They… are killers. My son was a good hunter too, but… he fell prey to the monsters."

Rurik refilled Ivan's bowl with soup, but accidently spilled on the table with his shaky hand.

"Something with your other arm?" asked Garet. "You don't seem to be left-handed."

Isaac looked up from slurping down the thin vegetable soup as the old man lifted the sleeve covering his right arm to reveal a horrible wound. He couldn't tell what animal had swiped Rurik, but those were deep cuts that almost reached into bone. His arm was coloured sickly purple as well.

"This doesn't look normal. What kind of monster did this?" asked Garet.

"The same kind that mauled my son and killed my niece," Rurik replied with a sigh. "I'm afraid my days are limited."

"Isaac," said Garet, "can you heal this?"

Isaac extended a hand towards the old farmer to have a closer look at the mess. Rurik looked at the Adepts, seemingly suspicious.

"He's a priest in training," said Garet. "Don't worry."

Isaac tilted the farmer's arm around a bit. He knew how to deal with venoms, but he had no idea how to make an antidote for this particular injury—heck, he didn't even know what animal could have caused it. Garet could have purged this with Fire Psynergy if he had bothered to pick up a lesson in healing.

He opened his bag and pulled out all kinds of herbs he'd gathered on the journey. He'd rather sell them to a pharmacy but he wasn't going to let Rurik die. He stacked all the herbs on top of Rurik's wound—something from that pile was bound to work, right? The farmer gave him an odd look, silently asking "Do you even know what you're doing?" Isaac covered the wound with a hand and focused his mind. He said a made up "prayer", and used Psynergy. A chilling cold surged through his veins, and his hand shone with a faint light. He felt the herbs shift beneath his touch, turning brown and black. The sick purple on the farmer's arm faded away and Isaac closed the wound after removing the dried useless herbs.

The old man lifted his hand, opening and closing it, testing its mobility. There was an ugly scar left behind, but Isaac couldn't do anything about it. Rurik didn't seem to mind either; he was probably happy enough that he could keep the arm.

"That was… different," said Rurik. "What kind of priest are you?"

Isaac gestured towards at Garet. The friend gave him an odd look, but then remembered why Isaac was silent.

"We're Valian," explained Garet. "I'll be frank. We have an important message to deliver to Imil. It concerns the city and the land's safety. Could you please tell us the fastest route?"

Rurik stroked his chin.

"It will take you at least two weeks on foot in this weather," said the old man, nodding in thought.

"_Two weeks__?_" said Isaac, staring at Rurik in utter shock. He turned his head over to one of the windows to see the snow flying around in the wind. He then looked at Ivan, who looked taken aback by his sudden outburst, and then slowly sunk back to his seat in silence.

Two weeks. _Two weeks!_

"You seem to be reliable fellows," said Rurik, "and you seem to know how to fight."

"Yes." Garet confirmed with a determined look. "We are fighters."

Rurik looked at his right hand, rubbing his wrist.

"My nephew is moving to the city today. When he stops by later to pick Nina up, I'll ask him to give you a ride."

"What about you?" asked Ivan.

"Heh, the city is not for me," replied Rurik. "I've been a farmer here all my life." He sighed. "I don't plan to leave."

Isaac averted his eyes. He wondered how things were in Vale. He'd been away from home for almost two months now. He wondered how his mother fared. Of course, Garet's family would take care of her, but that didn't stop him from worrying.

"More soup?" asked Rurik, picking up the ladle from the cauldron. "Don't be shy, there's more than enough for all."

Isaac shrugged. He looked to Ivan, whose wooden bowl was empty again.

"Do you want more?" asked Isaac.

The Wind Adept didn't say yes, but he didn't decline either, so Isaac picked up his bowl and went for a refill.

The little girl climbed on the bench and settled next to Ivan, curiously peeking under his hood.

"_Hi_, I'm Nina. What's your name?"

"I—"

_Pock. Pock._

Just then, someone knocked on the door, and Nina decided to run to the window instead.

"_Papa!_"

Rurik slowly dragged his feet over to the door and told his grandniece to get dressed. As she ran past him, he suddenly grabbed her shoulder. The old farmer pointed towards Ivan and then whispered something to the girl. Nina nodded and then vanished behind the corner into the next room.

"Uncle? Are you there?" said a decisively male voice.

"I'm on my way," replied Rurik with an irritated tone, unlocking and opening the door.

A dark-haired man wrapped in fur and wool entered, his heavy boots sounding loudly against the wooden floorboards. He sighed and brushed snow off the coat. When he saw the Adepts he questioned:

"Who are these people? Where's Nina?"

"Nina's getting dressed," said Rurik.

"Uh-huh."

"These people need a ride to Imil. Take them with you, Petro, they'll make sure you don't end up dead like Ivan."

Ivan winced when he heard his name. Isaac grinned. Apparently the boy shared a name with more people than just the Kalayan prince.

Petro looked at the Adepts again, his mouth still half-open in hesitation. His daughter came out, dressed in thick wool and fur.

"Papa!"

Petro picked up his daughter and kissed her on the nose. Nina then jumped out of his embrace. She ran over to Ivan and offered him a fur trimmed cloak. It obviously wasn't her size. Isaac cast a look towards the old man, before putting the bowl down on the table and heading back to Ivan's side. He tried taking the cloak, but the little girl wouldn't let him.

"It's for _him__!_" said the girl.

Ivan shyly took the cloak and said thank you.

"Uncle," said Petro finally. "I need fighters, not—"

"They have swords," said Rurik. "I'd say they fight better than you and Nik combined." He pointed at Isaac. "And that boy is a travelling priest as well."

Isaac showed Petro his weapon. When he saw Ivan looking away, he reached under the table and took his hand.

Rurik rolled up his sleeve to show his nephew the scar on his arm.

"Fine, get on the carriage," said Petro to the Adepts, "and be quick."

Garet rose from his chair and urged Isaac and Ivan to come. Once outside, they headed towards the carriage, which was loaded with crates and bags. The driver gave the Adepts a questioning look when they approached.

"Uh, Rurik and Petro said we could come with you…" said Garet.

Nik just pointed back towards the carriage and told them to get on board. The carriage was crammed and the Adepts barely found enough space to sit on at the back among the crates. Looking back towards the farmer's home, Isaac saw Petro gesturing wildly and pointing towards the carriage while his uncle stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Rurik gestured to the house and the farm, but his nephew was unmoved. He grabbed the old man and began dragging him towards the carriage.

"The things that killed Ivan and Tatiana are still out there!"

"_Someone_ needs to watch over the farm!"

"People are being ripped to shreds here and all you care about is your damn farm!"

Petro hoisted his uncle over his shoulders like a sack of grain and carried him to the carriage. He tossed Rurik up on the front next to Nik and Nina, before going around and climbing aboard on the back. Isaac moved closer to Garet and pulled Ivan aside to make room. Petro had to sit on one of the crates of supplies next to Garet. Rurik complained for a bit longer, but became silent once the carriage began to move.

Seeing that Petro had given his fur coat to Rurik and was sitting with his arms crossed, Ivan shyly gave him Rurik's cloak. Isaac lifted Ivan to his lap and the boy put his own silk cloak against Isaac's armour before leaning against his chest. He looked sleepy, so Isaac closed his ragged cape and his arms around the little Wind Adept.

"Take a nap, if you want," said Isaac, and the boy nodded and closed his eyes for sleep.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

This chapter proved to be one of the harder ones to edit and piece together due to the amount of intimacy between Isaac and Ivan. I'm pretty sure this is a big turn-off for some people but trust me, I am building up to something with this. If you mustknow here's a hint: If you've read my other GS fics, you probably know where this is going.

Anyway, with this chapter, I wanted to further show that Isaac isn't the unreasonable jerkass he appeared to be in the previous chapter(s), but he's definitely not a saint. He's a person—there are reasons for why he behaves the way he does.

And yes, Ivan only knew one spell (Mindread) prior to the events of Vault. He is a complete novice when it comes to other forms of magic. So in some way, I am using Isaac and Ivan's interactions to dump exposition about how magic works in this story, but that's not all there is to it.

The Adepts are just ordinary people when stripped off their magic abilities. They don't have extra frost or fire resistance or some other magical bonuses. Things like diseases, cold and starvation will affect them. They have to actually use a spell (and maintain it) to ward off the elements and such. Also, in my version—the trashmobs are not so harmless, especially if they gang up on you.

A fun detail is that I used another flower (Anemone hepatica) to describe the colour of Ivan's eyes in the original draft, but since I couldn't find a common name for that plant in English I had to swap it out. Harebell works.


	8. – The Legacy of Imil

**O**nce upon a time, there was a girl.

She was sweet and kind—Little Mia; a little angel on earth. Her father was the renowned High Priest of Imil; admired amongst people and respected by his peers. And her mother was a songstress, a gentle soul who brought smiles to the city with her music and dance. They were a perfect little family, happy as happy could be.

She lived a happy life—Little Mia; she was blessed with sweet looks. Her adoring smile brought her the love of many and the friendships of many more.

She was destined for glory—Little Mia; Saint Imil blessed her with many gifts. Beauty, courage, wisdom, magic and strength, she had it all. One day, she would become High Priestess. One day, the Matriarch of her clan she would be as well.

But then one day, tragedy struck the family and changed her life entirely.

On her sixth birthday, in the middle of October, her mother brought her to the tailor to pick up a dress made especially for the girl. It was made of dark blue and red velvet, a beautiful winter outfit indeed. Little Mia danced across the streets, eager to show it to her friends. Her mother laughed, watching the daughter's joyful play.

"Mia, be careful!" she said with a smile. It was the last thing she said to her little angel before her death arrived.

A speeding carriage went out of control and crashed on the streets; Sonja the Songstress stood in the way.

The little girl shrieked in horror, watching the event take place. The girl screamed, begging the bystanders to save her mother dear. But it was too late; Sonja the Songstress was dead.

The girl did not speak a word after her mother's death, and her silence weighted heavy on her father's heart.

She was suffering, said her father the high priest. He didn't have the heart to train her after that, said High Priest Dmitri.

Then _he_, was one day brought into her life. _He_, a street urchin whose lineage was unknown until an estranged uncle caught him stealing bread by chance. He came into her life as a child, eight winters had he only seen. He changed her destiny, even though he didn't know it at the time.

He was destined to be a mender, said his uncle the high priest. His _Healing Hands _proved he'd been chosen by Saint Imil himself, said High Priest Dmitri.

Alexander was grateful for his uncle's kindness. He became intrigued by his lineage and was inspired by his ancestor's legends. In time, he came to be proud of his heritage too.

She didn't speak to him.

She didn't speak to him when he first arrived in Imil, and she didn't speak to him after she was told he was her foolish aunt's offspring. But she always watched him. She watched Alexander as he studied and practiced the art of magic and medicine. She listened to his music when he played his flute. And she followed him everywhere he went.

Every morning, Alexander woke up early and left the city with his uncle. They had their duties to attend to. The people on the countryside needed them.

Every morning, Little Mia accompanied them on the journey. She always stared at him when he healed, but looked away when he looked back. At the time, Alexander thought she was mad with him for showing up at her doorstep and taking her place. If it wasn't for him, _she_ would have been the next leader of the clan. If it wasn't for _him_, _she_ would've been tutored to be the next High Priestess of Imil.

But then one day, he had to leave the city alone. His uncle had to attend council in the city, and Alexander was to deliver the temple's banner to a new shrine in a remote village in the southern shores. He thought it'd be a long, lonely walk. But then _she_ showed up at the gate, dragging her father's greatsword behind her on the snow.

"Mia, go home," he told her, afraid that she would get hurt.

But she refused and resisted when he tried dragging her back behind the gate.

In the end, she followed him to the village and successfully delivered the banner. During the opening ceremony of the shrine, the farmers gave her strange looks, asking why she was carrying a huge sword she couldn't wield.

She didn't reply at the time, merely furrowing her brow.

But years later, she would lift a weapon again and tell him she would be his sword and shield.

She would protect him, she said. She would keep him safe.

She loved him, she said. She would always be by his side.

* * *

The snow fell softly over the plains of Imil as the caravan of refugees suddenly stopped on the road. Alex stood in the front, his hands hanging at his sides. Standing on the road, he gazed towards the high city walls. Banners ever so familiar—blue on white—flew on watchtowers, and the Imilian watch kept vigil at the gate.

For centuries, they had protected the City of Imil. For almost a millennium, they had guarded the Lighthouse of Mercury.

He sighed, breathing a puff of mist to the air. He smiled. Things didn't seem to have changed much since his leave after all.

"Alex?" said Felix, worriedly placing a hand on his shoulder. "Is something amiss?"

Alex sighed and tapped the hand on his shoulder appreciatively, but he pushed it off, taking a step away from his friend and towards the city.

As he approached, he opened the gilded brooches holding his night-blue cloak, letting the fabric down on his arm. Without slowing his pace, he raised the cape and turned it over. His eyes lingered on the white colour on the other side for a moment. Then, with a faint smile, he threw the cloak back around his shoulders and fastened it with the white side out.

White. White was his cloak and his coat with the trimmings of gold. It's been a while since he wore his cape the right way. As he pulled his excessively long hair out from under the cloak a brief wind lifted it and cast it back over his shoulders. Blue. Blue was his hair and the insignia decorating his white cape.

He inhaled, picking up his pace, marching towards the city gate with the caravan following closely behind. He exhaled, looking up at the white banners flying above the tall stonewall protecting the city.

The City of Imil had a long history, tracing all the way back to the sealing of Alchemy.

Before Saint Imil brought his people here, this place was nothing but a mere village of a few nomadic clans of hunters that had decided to settle down permanently. Situated so far from the rest of the world, the village had been left out of the wars of Alchemy. But after the Saints sealed away the source of magic and changed the fate of Weyard, the humble village of huntsmen became a bastion to the Ancient Heroes protecting the construction of the Elemental Lighthouses.

The stories told that the Ancient Heroes ended the wars with power alone in one decisive battle. That is not entirely true.

While they did defeat the reigning warlords, they left a shambled world behind in rivers of blood. The conquerors might have been defeated, but the war was far from over.

Several years after Saint Imil's sacrifice, opposing factions rose against Weyard's saviours.

The Saints were no better than their former lieges, they said. So many people lost their lives in the aftermath. So many people were executed. They had only traded one tyrant for another. Only now, they were more powerless than ever.

In decades, the separatists would wage war against the Saints. In a quest to stop the Elemental Lighthouses from being built, the remnants of the warmages attacked the City of Imil.

In defence of Saint Imil's legacy, the warriors of Clan Mercury rose to battle. When the other clans in the village were too frightened to fight, the warriors of Clan Mercury raised their banners and fought in Saint Imil's name.

Victory didn't come without a price, however; the walls were painted red with blood after the battle. The war left scars on every soul on Weyard. Even the fierce commander leading the defence of the city came back broken in some way. He had just witnessed the devastating effects of magics used for war. They had all seen it in the battlefield or from the wall.

Saint Imil's disciples feared for their lives—the Ancient Heroes were no longer around to defend them. Many fled from their duties and buried their faith. Even Hermes, Imil's chosen successor feared for his life.

So the patriarch of Clan Mercury took a blood oath; he swore to protect Imil's legacy. To the end of his days, he was Commander of the city's defences. And on his deathbed, he took a vow from his sons and daughters.

"Protect the Lighthouse," he told them. "We are Imil's chosen," he said. "We must protect the world and honour his legacy."

His heirs would pass those words to their own children, and their children would say the same to theirs. So, the oath passed down through generations. And so, the oath had come to _him_.

Nearing the gate and the Imilian watch, Alex raised a hand to the level of his head, signing to the caravan to stop. Alone, he approached the watchmen who instantly recognized his dress and his face.

"A-alexander?" said the men of the watch, nearly dropping their spears in surprise.

"I-is it you, Alexander?"

Alex briefly pressed his palm together in a greeting and answered with a faint smile and a nod. The men in furs and leather looked behind him toward the caravan.

"They are refugees," said Alex. "Monsters have attacked the villages southwest from here. My companions and I brought them to the city where they will be safe behind the walls."

The watchmen exchanged looks with one another. They were at loss, unable to handle the responsibility of so many people. Refugees seeking shelter was not unheard of, but they had never dealt with a crisis at this scale.

"Let them in," said Alex calmly. "I will speak with the council."

He tried to move past the watchmen but they barred his way.

"Apologies, Alex," they said. Their eyes were filled with concern and remorse. "The Commander's orders. No permits, no entrance."

He then turned back to Felix and Menardi and gestured to them to wait.

"They have travelled for days, some even for weeks. What can possibly be so important that a permit is needed for entrance at this time of need?"

"The Commander did not specify," replied the guards.

"I vouch for these people," said Alex. "There are children and elderly among them," he then added. "They are all tired and need a safe place to rest. I will speak to Mia."

The watchmen looked at him for a moment and then stepped aside. The guard on top of the wall signed with his hand and the gates slowly opened a path to the City of Imil.

Alex entered the city first with Felix following closely behind, and with Felix came Felix's sister. The watchmen didn't stop him or the Valian siblings—they trusted Alex's judgement, but they did whisper about him afterward, questioning his return after three long years without a word from him.

He heard hushing from behind. Looking back, he saw Menardi, hooded and cloaked, telling the refugees to line up and enter one by one. The refugees heeded her command; she had the people's trusts. No one had died under her watch so far as she'd made the wise decisions to avoid combat at all costs.

"They'll meet up with us later," said Felix, once again thinking Alex needed reassurance and placed a hand on his arm. "Don't worry."

He responded with a smile, but Felix's sister shot glares towards him. She still believed he was up to something despite that he'd done nothing to harm her or anyone else. In some ways, the Valian siblings reminded Alex of _her_. _She_ used to be caring and over-protective too.

Continuing down the main street, he directed the siblings to places where they could buy supplies and told them where they could find housing for the night. He probably said too much, since Felix began staring at him after he mentioned tradesmen might be disappointed he wasn't visiting. He obviously said too much, since Felix's sister shuddered when he mentioned how the innkeeper's lovely daughter might get mad at him for not dropping by for a visit.

Seeing Jenna's disgusted expression, Alex apologized. He then turned around to leave them to their own devices, but Felix called out his name. Alex simply smiled back and waved them goodbye.

Unlike Felix, he would walk in the light. Unlike the Valian, he did not falter. He knew where destiny would lead him with this path and his decision was absolute. He would fire the Mercury Lighthouse, come hell or high water. And he would walk in the light.

"Don't worry about me," said Alex when his friend didn't seem to understand his message.

"No one's worrying about _you!_" Felix's sister shouted at him. She shot Alex another glare and dragged Felix away towards the inn before the poor brother could even respond.

"Tell Anya I sent you!" Alex said, laughing. "She might give you a discount!"

"_Shut up!_"

* * *

A thin layer of snow covered the leafless trees scattered around the city, and the evening breeze pulled snowflakes from the frosty branches.

In spring, the trees would flower in pink and white. In spring, he'd brake off the first flowering branch and present it to _her_.

With light footsteps, he wandered to the heart of the city, ascending in height as he walked up the winding paths. Citizens who recognized his face stopped on the streets to stare at him. No one bothered to stop him to ask for the truth, but they did point and whisper as he passed. He merely replied with a nod and a smile, and sometimes even with a wave of his hand. There was no reason to fuss over his return, really.

Finally, he reached the large oak tree growing on the hill that was the city's highest point. In ancient times, Saint Imil's apprentices educated the new priests and templars here. Now, this was a place where the town council held their gatherings and where storytellers told their tales.

Alex took the old ornate spear leaning against the trunk of the tree. He ran a hand over the spearhead, brushing away the frost and snow to reveal the inscription. Mia had kept it polished after all these years—she had always been waiting for him to return. He cast a look up towards the naked tree to see a piece of faded cloth hanging from the lowest and thickest branch. A smile dawned on his lips as he remembered the moment she spoke to him the first time.

The ancient tree was his preferred place for studying in summer and spring, even when loud children often played around the area. He would climb up to the first branch and read in the shade of the leaves. And for a long time, it was the only place where he could hide from Mia's soul-searching eyes.

But then one summer evening, she arrived to the tree in search for him. She was nine, and he was ten years old at the time.

She climbed up to the tree with ease. Then, without warning, she threw her arms around him, throwing him off balance and almost causing them both to fall.

"_No_," she said, burying her face in the nook where his neck joined with his shoulder. "No," said Mia the first time she spoke to him.

"_Wh-what?_" He gasped, blood instantly rushing to his face as he rebalanced himself on the branch.

"Don't leave," she whispered, clinging on tighter.

"Wh-what? I-I…" He stuttered, not used to hearing her voice. "I-I'm not going anywhere, Mia."

She never revealed what caused her to finally speak to him, and he never bothered to ask. But in that very moment, he realized that she did not resent him at all.

That evening, he played a ballad for her when she asked for a song. That evening, she watched him intently, with her hands on her rosy cheeks and her twin braids hanging from the sides of her face. The intense look in her grey-blue eyes made him feel uneasy, and it made his notes tremble and fade. As his face become too warm for comfort, she gave him a brilliant smile he'd never seen her wear before and embraced him once more.

"I like you," she said, unabashed, causing his face to burn like a hot iron.

"Hah-ha ha! Look at _that!_"

Looking down, he saw three other children below the tree; Igor, Oleg and Leon were their names. Moments later, the laughing and humiliation commenced.

When Mia saw them her face become scarlet with rage. She picked up his book and hurled it downwards, scattering the boys. She yelled at them. She put her hands beside her on the branch, ready to drop down from the height, but he threw his arms around her and held her back. He shook his head no—it was far to the ground and he didn't want her to get hurt.

She looked back at him, her grey-blue eyes shining with determination.

"I'll protect you," she said. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

* * *

He couldn't gather the council immediately; too many of the relevant people were gone. Even the Commander herself had left to fight bandits, said the scribe scheduling a meeting tomorrow. Once Mia returned, they'd discuss the refugees' fates. For now, they were given permit to camp in a specific area within the walls near the west gate.

It was evening when Alex returned to the camp with news. Menardi was healing some of the sick and the wounded while Felix and the rest were nowhere seen. The northlander didn't say anything but she nodded to Alex meaningfully with a glint in her claret eyes. Her glaive was gone and it was apparent that the Imilian watch had disarmed the entire caravan. After finishing healing the old woman's feet, she waved Alex aside for a talk.

"The Lighthouse," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Lead us to the Lighthouse tonight."

She clearly did not like the current predicament and the fact that Alex had power in the city seemed to worry her. Unlike the situation with Felix in Vale, she couldn't control Alex in Imil.

"I need time," he said, pleading. "I have unfinished business with my clan."

"And how long will it take you to finish your business?" asked Menardi, clearly suspecting a betrayal from him.

"I can't say…" he replied, averting his eyes for a moment. "But it will be in our favour if I am able to convince the Commander to simply grant you passage instead of having to break in."

Menardi lowered her eyebrows, but she nodded slowly in agreement.

"You have two days," she told him.

"What?"

"_Alex_!"

Turning back towards the refugee camp, Alex saw Felix and his sister approaching. Menardi smiled sardonically and left with a curt nod, leaving him with the Valians.

"Alex, I've been looking for you," said Felix, meeting him with eyes of concern. "Are you all right?" asked the Valian, his dark eyes seeing things that weren't there. "You look… distressed."

Alex smiled, shaking his head. He briefly touched Felix's arm as he began leaving the camp, but Felix's sister grabbed his cape.

"_Who_ are you, Alex?" she asked, glaring at him when he turned back to face her.

Alex's gaze wandered from Jenna's face to her concerned brother's. Why was everyone bothered by his identity? Couldn't they simply be happy that he had the means to make things easy?

"I'm just another law-abiding citizen, my sweet Jenna," he replied, chuckling.

Felix's sister cringed and immediately let go of his cape, causing Felix to laugh out loudly. When Jenna glared back at her brother, Felix raised his hands above his head and shrugged with a confounded look. She punched him on the chest, knocking the air out of him, and then stormed off down the streets, heading back to the inn.

Felix wheezed. He stepped over to Alex and grabbed his arm, finally asking if he even had a plan.

"Of course I have a plan," replied Alex with a mild smile, but a better idea struck him upon seeing Felix's face. "I might need your help tomorrow, though," he added.

"Huh?"

"If you can speak for the Valians, it will be much easier to convince my temple to join our cause."

Felix's dark eyes grew tall and instantly the Earth Adept shied away.

"But I'm a traitor!" said Felix, looking away desperately. "I can't speak for anyone. B-besides, what do you even want me to say? _I can't_—"

"I'll tell you what to say," replied Alex calmly, placing his hands on Felix's upper arms and giving him a reassuring rub. "Don't worry. It's going to be fine."

"I-I don't know…" said Felix. His shoulders scrunched up and he was suddenly acting like a frightened child.

"We can prevent a battle, Felix. I'm sure we can fight the Imilian watch; they are not deadly sorcerers like the Zealots of Vale, but I'd rather not see anyone here get hurt. You understand that, right?"

Felix stopped twitching for a moment and he lifted his gaze, looking back at Alex. He then bashfully looked away, tucked part of his messy hair back behind his ear and then nodded in forced agreement.

"Think about it tonight," said Alex. He thrust a hand under his tunic and showed Felix his wooden flute.

"Listen for a cuckoo early in the dawn. I'll meet you outside the inn."

Felix didn't verbally agree to help, but he didn't object either.

"Sorry about my sister," he said. "I don't know what she has against you…"

"She's stopped trying to murder me for the slightest thing. I consider that an improvement in the relationship."

Felix stifled a laugh.

"Well, try stop giving her pet names," said the Earth Adept. "That's not going to win you any favour."

"It's always amusing to see her reaction though," Alex replied with a grin.

"_Hah!_ True!" said Felix, playfully punching Alex on the shoulder. "Just don't overdo it if you value your pretty face."

* * *

He left the camp shortly after talking to Felix and giving him a note with the things to remember for tomorrow. It was nightfall when they parted ways and Alex watched his friend head back to the inn, a little less self-conscious but still unsure.

Felix wasn't a poor Adept by any means. He constantly pulsed with energy, and like Alex, he could also heal effortlessly with a touch. He just didn't believe in himself. Alex couldn't tell whether it was due to his sister constantly calling him a slave or that Felix had low self-esteem to begin with. Either way, Alex hoped that getting him directly involved in his plan of dismantling the temple would give him the confidence he needed to stand up for himself.

Alex passed the town hall. He passed the mayor's residence and the huntsmen's dwellings. His cape waved as an icy wind blew in from the north. Holding a lantern and his ceremonial spear in one hand and a basket of gifts in the other, he followed the moonlit winding road to the western part of the city. As he reached the suspension bridge hanging over the river, a middle aged couple taking a walk in the moonlight recognized his face.

"_Alexander?_ Is that you?" asked the woman, picking up her pace to meet Alex on the bridge. The couple said they'd heard people speak of his return at evening, but they still couldn't believe he really was back in Imil.

"Does Mia know?" asked the woman excitedly. "Oh, she hasn't been herself ever since you left! Does she know you've returned?"

"Olga, calm down," said her husband, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You'll scare the lad away like that."

"Adam!" said Olga, swatting her husband on the forearm. She then beckoned to Alex with a small gesture.

"Come here, Alexander," she said, "let Aunt Olga have a good look at you!"

Alex smiled and took a step forward. With his hands full, he couldn't do much more than complying.

"Oh my, you're _so_ tall!" said Olga. "I hope Mia recognizes you!"

"Olga, you're exaggerating!" said Adam. "He's always been like this."

"Of course not, he's grown at least _two inches!_"

"Hah-ha! Nothing escapes Aunt Olga's eyes!" Alex said with a laugh.

"Of course, dear, we watched you grow up! And look at your hair—Don't you look dashing? Did you grow it out?"

"Of course he did, he only lets Mia cut his hair, remember?"

"Hah!" Alex grinned. "To hear you'd remember such details, Uncle Adam!"

The couple then noticed the basket in his hand.

"Hey, what do you have in the basket?" said Olga. "Such lovely flowers! And a present? _Oh!" _She placed a hand on her mouth and then whispered. "It's Mia's birthday today."

Alex nodded silently with a smile. Adam lowered his head and whispered:

"So what's in the box, lad?"

"You'll all see it on the sky tonight."

* * *

Returning to his old home, Alex hung his lantern up at the entrance of the small stable, taking his time to greet his old horse. The black mare didn't recognize his face at first, but she hadn't forgotten his touch. Stormwind craned towards him when he touched her snout and allowed him to stroke her head.

"Missed me, girl?" he asked. "Yes, I missed taking you on long rides too. Maybe we'll make up for that anytime soon, Stormwind."

_Krsh_.

Hearing the thick snow behind him crunch, he let go of the horse and turned around.

"Who's there?" said the voice of a frightened child—the child Alex took under his wing many years ago after he arrived to the temple's door selling matches.

Justin was barely tall enough to fit the apprentice priest robes he was wearing. The boy shakily clutched a wooden stick in his hands and he stared back at his master in shock.

Alex silently placed a finger to his lips. His apprentice quickly dropped the firewood and covered his mouth with his hands. The gaze in his blue eyes worriedly wandered from left to right and he breathed loudly through his nose. Alex smiled and strode over to his apprentice, catching Justin in his arms as the boy stumbled his way towards him.

"Careful," said Alex, bending his knees and lowering himself to the boy's level. "It's slippery."

"A-Alex…" Justin stammered, clamping his arms tightly around Alex's neck. "M-master!"

"Oh goodness, don't cry!" Alex chuckled, closing his arms around his apprentice. "I'm home now."

"Y-you…" Justin sobbed. "_Hf_… Th-they s-said you died in the mines!"

"Tch, don't be silly." He brushed a hand over the boy's soft blond locks. "Do I look like someone who's easily killed?"

Justin shook his head, but he hugged Alex tighter.

"You've been a good boy when I was gone?" asked Alex, gently pulling his apprentice away. "You didn't give Mia any trouble now, did you?"

Justin suddenly became silent, which was a bit worrying.

"You didn't go back to your thieving habits when I was gone now, did you?" asked Alex meaningfully, lifting an eyebrow.

"_No!_" Justin cried out, as if he'd just heard an accusation from the authorities rather than a joke from his teacher. "I'm not a thief! I _swear_-"

"_Hah_, relax." Alex rubbed the boy's shoulder blades. "I'm just teasing, dear."

Justin let out a sniffle, and Alex gently let go of his young apprentice, standing up and straightening himself.

"Where's your sister?" he then asked. "And has Mia returned?"

"M-megan's asleep." Justin sniffled. "Mia's at the w-watchtower…"

"Ah, of course."

Of course. She might have taken over his duty as the head of the temple in his absence, but she was the Commander of the Imilian watch through and through.

He hung his basket under his arm and took his lamp down from the wall, giving it to Justin. When he extended a free hand towards his apprentice, the boy happily took it, and they made their way towards the western watchtower together—master and apprentice.

Justin told Alex how Mia had missed him and often walked to the large oak tree to look at the spear he left there. The boy talked excitedly about how much his healing abilities had improved, and Alex said he wanted to see how true that was later.

Arriving at the watchtower overlooking the lands to the west, they shook the snow off their clothes before entering. The warm light of the lamp filled the room as they ascended the stairs to the top of the tower. Soon after reaching the top, the Commander's long shadow stretched over the floor and covered them upon arrival.

She stood on top of the battlement of the tower with her back facing him—a tall figure with a heavy staff in hand. A white cloak with Saint Imil's insignia draped over her shoulders and a veiled hat covered her head as she watched the last rays of twilight in the distant horizon.

Alex released his apprentice and handed his gift basket over to the boy. He placed a finger to his lips, signing to Justin, and then slowly began tiptoeing towards the priestess. She winced when Alex took his first step, but then remained still, allowing him to approach. When he was at arm's reach, he took a quick step forward. Water pooled under his feet and lifted him to her level before freezing into an icy stepladder, allowing him to easily place his hands over the priestess's eyes.

"Guess who?" said Justin excitedly.

The priestess sighed.

"For the last time, Oleg," she said, prying his hands away in annoyance. "I'm not coming to your party."

"Oh?" said Alex with a slight chuckle. "Then how about dinner with _me?_"

She winced upon hearing his voice.

"Guess who?" whispered Alex, sliding his arms around her waist as Justin began giggling.

Mia turned around to face him. Her frown quickly faded and her eyes grew tall in surprise. Her lips parted and quivered, but she didn't manage to say a single word before tears began filling her grey-blue eyes.

"Happy birthday, Mia," said Alex with a smile.

And then her hand came crashing down on his face. Alex stumbled and his stepladder vanished in a blur of snowflakes and mist, dropping him to his rear on the floor. He sat up and touched the side of his face, looking back up towards her looming shadow.

"Still got that good hand, don't you?" he said with a little laugh.

She inhaled and then hopped off the battlement, landing right in front of him. With all the emotions raging, she could only stare at him with an expression of anger.

"Be careful. One might not dare asking for it in marriage, my rose."

She stifled a cry and then took a step forward, flinging her arms around his torso and burying her face in the nook where his neck joined with his shoulder. She didn't say a word, but she sniffled and cried. Few were allowed to see this side of her.

"I thought everyone in town was playing a cruel joke on me," she finally whispered.

"I'm sorry I had you worried," replied Alex, carefully tucking his arms around her neck and lifting her headdress off. She sighed, brushing her head against the side of his face.

"I'm glad you're back."

"I told you I'll return, come hell or high water."

He could feel her heartbeat against his chest. Sighing in relief, he combed a hand through her cascading cerulean hair, but then suddenly remembered that his apprentice was still here; watching. He pulled away from the embrace, giving her a smile as he let go, extending his hand towards Justin.

"What's in the box?" asked the boy, handing him back the basket with the mountain flowers and the ornate box.

"You'll see soon enough," replied Alex, taking the basket from his apprentice and presenting it to his cousin, childhood friend and love. "Happy birthday, Mia."

Mia sighed with a faint smile, shaking her head. She picked up the box and opened it, but upon seeing the contents she gasped and quickly asked:

"Where did you get these?"

"A travelling merchant in Bilibin was willing to part from them for a reasonable price," Alex replied, smiling.

"How much did you pay?" she said, shaking her head.

"You've always wanted to see fireworks, Mia. I don't care about the money."

She exhaled and smiled again.

"Do you even know how to set them up?"

"Of course I do!" Alex laughed. "Here, let me fire them up for you!"

He was about to take the box of fireworks when Mia suddenly pulled back.

"Wait, do you think it's appropriate?" she said, looking at the box. "What if we scare people?"

"Mia, everyone knows what fireworks are," replied Alex.

"No," said Mia with a determined look, "we should make an announcement before we do something like this. I don't want anyone to panic because you want to indulge my whims."

"As you wish, Commander," replied Alex, placing a hand over his heart and bowing.

Mia swatted him on the head.

"Get serious!" She tried to sound angry, but she was laughing. "They're _loud!_ People might think a war has begun!"

"_Now_, you're exaggerating!"

She hit him again on the arm, and he looked around to get backup from Justin, only to find that his apprentice had left the tower.

"Hey, where did he go?" he asked.

"What?" said Mia with a huff, and then proceeded to jab him on the chest with an index finger. "You expected Justin to stay and listen to your cheesy nonsense?"

Alex averted his eyes and shrugged with a crooked grin. Mia's playful smile slowly faded away in the following silence. She put the box of fireworks on the floor. As she rose back up, she reached out towards his hand and took back her hat.

"Well, I suppose this should go back to you now," she then whispered, holding the headdress up in front of her chest.

Alex lowered his gaze towards the hat but as she lifted it to place it on his head, he abruptly swatted it out of her hands and drew her into an embrace.

"_Alex—_" she began, but swallowed her words when his lips suddenly captured hers.

She smiled into the kiss and draped her arms around his chest. He felt her breath brush against his face as she exhaled in resignation. She kissed him back gently, but broke away maybe a bit too early for his comfort.

"Too much?" he asked.

"Not at all." She smiled and gently shook her head. "Just… kind of wrong moment."

"Then _when?_" he said with a slight laugh, brushing the tip of his nose against hers.

"_Later!_" She whined, playfully pushing him back. "At home, _preferably!_"

He pulled away.

"As the matriarch wishes," he said.

"Stop calling me that! You're back now, so-"

"Well, if you _marry_ me…"

"Well, isn't _that_ a way to propose."

"So is that a no?"

"You don't even have a ring!"

He took her hand, kissed her knuckles and conjured a ring of ice around her ring finger.

"That doesn't count!" said Mia with a laugh.

"You never struck me as the materialistic type, Mia," Alex replied in a mock-up sad tone.

"Well, you never struck me as the sloppy type!"

"Touché."

She sighed with a smile, shaking her head as the effect of the jokes died off. When the light-hearted moment once again became somber, he closed his arms around her again, asking what was on her mind.

"We need to prepare the defences," she replied.

"Hm?"

"Someone's coming for the Lighthouse," said Mia.

She broke away from the hug, slipped a hand under her robe and withdrew two opened letters. Alex took them and unfolded them to read.

One was a writ from the High Priest of Vale, asking authorities for help to recover the stolen relics of Vale. The other was from a nameless templar, warning the Temple of Imil of a potential attack on the Mercury Lighthouse. The templar said the thieves planned using the keys stolen from Vale to light the Elemental Lighthouses. He included details of Menardi's warband and even mentioned Felix's sister and the scholar they dropped off in Vault.

Folding the letters up, Alex grimly turned his head to look towards the shadowy pillar in the horizon that was the Lighthouse of Mercury.

One should not underestimate the zealots of Vale.

* * *

**_Author's notes:_**

Short story: Alex is not the same character as his game counterpart.

Long story: Alex is not the same character as he is in game. Neither is Mia. I've expanded their backstory and given them different personalities. I might sound like a broken record now but they are people here, not archetypes, so they have their own motivations and goals.

And yes, this also means that Alex might or might not turn out to be an evil douchebag in this continuity—you don't know. He's not the same character as in the game. He's smart, he's nice, he believes what he does is right, he doesn't talk like a pretentious prick, and people actually have legitimate reasons to trust him. And when he does betray people, they have reasons to be really upset about it.

Because if he's not even friends with the other characters, there's no reason to care when/if he betrays them. If he isn't a person that Felix and Jenna likes, why should they care when he leaves? And if the characters themselves don't care—why should we?

I've edited this chapter afterwards and added a small scene where Menardi kind of starts to not trust Alex after finding out who he really is. It's not stated in the story, but she only knew he was a Water Adept and a member of the Mercury Clan when she recruited him, so of course she becomes suspicious when she finds out he's actually the patriarch and holds power in Imil.

A fun fact is that I already had written Mia and Alex as first cousins (in the previous versions of this fic) long before Dark Dawn even was announced.


	9. – The Warrior and the Priestess

**E**ver since crossing the river, Garet had been losing sleep and his anxiety had only worsened after Isaac started failing his duties to keep watch. Though, he couldn't fault the Earth Adept for being tired; Isaac took on multiple duties as fighter, healer and protector. He also stayed up late to teach Ivan how to use Psynergy. But the fact that they both were in such bad shapes was awful news, especially when so many lives were at stake.

Rurik wasn't kidding when he said there were monsters in the north. Garet thought they were simply rabid animals at first, but after seeing them himself, he concluded that they resembled demons more than angered wildlife. Unlike normal beasts that were after food or protecting their young, these animals attacked unprovoked and chased the carriage for miles. They also fought to the death no matter what and feared neither flame nor steel—it just simply wasn't... normal.

Garet had even stopped questioning Isaac's decision of teaching Ivan how to hurt before how to heal. They needed as many fighters as possible; Nik could only fire so many arrows before he had to leap into combat with his axe, and Garet didn't like the idea of him fighting monsters up that close after what happened to Petro.

They were attacked in the middle of the night. Isaac and Petro were at watch but failed to notice something sinister approaching since they both were weary and hadn't gotten much sleep. It was the horse that alerted them with its life when the mountain troll emerged from the shadows of the trees and attacked the people at the front of the carriage.

Half-awake, Garet fumbled after his sword among the bags and crates. He stood up when the hideous monster crushed the workhorse with a single hit with its mallet. Nina screamed while Rurik took her in his arms and got off the carriage as fast as possible. Nikola hurried to string his bow while Petro shot arrows at the troll from where he stood near the campfire, screaming his daughter's name like a madman.

Ivan shrieked too; two rats large as wolves lunged at his throat from another direction, and Isaac threw himself in front of him with a spell in hand.

Garet stumbled over the luggage as he climbed over the crates to the front of the carriage to help Nikola. The creature towered over the humans at nine feet in height and its club was the size of a small tree. The arrows sticking out from its back didn't even bother the troll and it turned on Petro.

The hunter kept shooting as the creature lumbered towards him, his feet shaking in terror.

"_Petro!_" Nik cried out to his brother, finally drawing his bow. He shot the troll in the back but it didn't notice him at all. "_Run!_" He screamed, placing another arrow on his bow.

The other hunter couldn't seem to find his feet. Petro fumbled for the next arrow, terrified by the creature's size and strength when it raised its mallet. He finally drew his bow and shot it in the face, but the arrow bounced off the monster's head like a pebble. The troll let out a roar and then smashed the hunter's head with a single hit with the mallet, spilling his blood all over the camp.

The sight caused a wave of nausea to swell up in Garet and he gripped his sword tightly. His senses began acting up. He felt dizzy and could only vaguely hear the screams from Isaac and Nik. His arms and legs began feeling too heavy. He stumbled and slammed his forearms against one of the crates in the wagon for support.

"Not now!" Garet begged as his vision dimmed. "Not now… they need me!"

He lost consciousness. He didn't know for how long, but the battle was still on when he came to. The shadows flickered and he heard Isaac scream. A yellow light flashed and he heard a wail that sounded like a dying crow.

Garet stumbled to his feet and fumbled for his sword. Nina and Nik shrieked. He wobbled to his feet, trying to regain control of his weary limbs, but his senses were still wonky. He heard the troll roar and swing its club towards Rurik who'd just taken a logging axe to the monster's side. The troll would have killed the old man too if Isaac didn't hit it with a volley of stone arrows and distracted it.

"_Rurik!_" said Garet. He jumped off the carriage and sprinted over to the fight, sword unsheathed. "Isaac!"

Ivan fired a lightningbolt at the monster's chest and made it drop the weapon before it could reach Isaac. Garet slipped in between Rurik and the troll before the monster could attack again. He raised his free hand above his head and used Psynergy. A red light bled out from his forearm towards all sides, forming a round shield of pulsing energy on his arm, blocking the attack. Still, he felt the force of the blow and it felt as if his arm was being torn from his shoulder.

"_Garet!_" Isaac called out to him.

He took a defensive stance as the monster kept pummelling on his shield. His eyes wandered to the longsword in his other hand but he couldn't find an opening to use it. He couldn't defend like this forever. The shield began breaking and flames burst from the cracks.

His eyes grew tall when the monster suddenly clasped its huge hands, jumped, and slammed down upon him with full force. He gasped in pain when the shield shattered and vanished in fading embers, dropping down to his hands and knees and letting out a gasp as if the troll had just taken a blow directly to his chest.

The creature then suddenly roared in agony and drew away from him. Garet didn't know who'd saved him—Isaac or Ivan—but he took the opportunity to strike nevertheless. Lifting his longsword with both hands, he let out a wild cry and thrust the sword through the troll's chest, pushing the blade almost up to the hilt before stepping away. Flames burst from the wound and engulfed the troll's torso and quickly spread to the rest of its body. The monster roared and flailed in a death dance before falling dead on the snow.

Garet clasped his hands over his chest, coughing and gasping. Looking back, he found Isaac hacking the giant rats to pieces with his axe like a maniac while Ivan was staring straight forward as if his soul had been stolen away.

"Nik…" said Garet. He gasped for breath and the smell of blood and burnt flesh made him spontaneously throw up. Afterwards, he wiped his mouth and wobbled away from the monster's burnt carcass, his weary eyes searching for the remaining hunter and his niece. "Nik! _Nina! RURIK!_"

He froze when he saw Nikola standing in the snow with a torch in hand and his crying niece in his arms. The hunter swung his burning torch as if it could ward him from evil.

"Nik?"

The hunter took a step back, clutching the girl in his arms and staring at Garet in terror.

"Nik!_"_ said Garet, as the hunter suddenly turned around and ran away. "_Nik, no! Wait! NIK! Don't run away!_"

He tried chasing him, but only managed to take three steps before he remembered Isaac and the others. Turning back, he found Isaac crying and hugging a catatonic Ivan, whispering words of comfort into the child's ear. Rurik was close nearby, staring at what was left of Petro—oh, no!

Garet turned away and covered his eyes, sinking to a squatting position and pressing a hand against his forehead. He blinked hard, trying to avoid the corpses as he stood up.

"Isaac…" he said, groaning and suppressing the urge to throw up. "Pack up… we have to leave."

They couldn't stay here with the fire and the corpses attracting more monsters and beasts. Petro was dead. He had to protect those who were still alive.

"Rurik," urged Garet. "Take whatever is important from the carriage. We have to move. We'll get you to the city where you'll be safe!"

Rurik looked at Garet but his gaze kept returning to his dead nephew.

"He's _dead!_" said Garet. "We need to move before the monsters kill us too! _Isaac!_ _Move!_"

Isaac was cupping the unresponsive Wind Adept's face in his hands.

"Ivan, say something, _please!_" said the Earth Adept, crying desperately. "It's _me!_ It's _Isaac!_"

_Krch. Krch. Krsch._

Hearing steps in the snow, Garet turned around and his hand flew to the empty sheath hanging from his belt, but to his relief it was Nik who'd run back to the group. Rurik gasped and tripped over to his remaining nephew and his grandniece, hugging and kissing them as he cried.

"_Urgh_…" Nik then moaned and collapsed in Rurik's arms.

"_Nik!_" said Garet, hurrying over to help the hunter stand. It was then he found an arrow sticking out at his side. Rurik's face became pale and he pulled Nina into his arms.

"_Isaac!"_ said Garet. "Get over here! _Quick! Isaac!_"

He sat Nik on the ground and then looked back towards the Earth Adept. Ivan was clinging on him and crying now, and Isaac didn't seem to hear anything else. Garet stomped over to them and dragged Isaac over to Nik, almost throwing the Earth Adept on the ground at the hunter's feet.

"_Heal!_" He ordered Isaac in desperation. "Heal him!" He knew Isaac wasn't a proper healer, but he was Nik's only hope.

Isaac shook and his fingers trembled when he tried undoing Nik's clothing. Rurik took Nik's knife and cut his nephew's tunic up to allow Isaac easy access to the wound.

Garet left the group and went to salvage the important things from the carriage. He heard Nik let out an agonizing scream as Isaac extracted the arrow. Focusing on his own task, Garet gathered the food, put it in their rucksacks and then tossed them on the ground. Then he remembered where he left his longsword and shut his eyes in despair.

"Saints, please give me strength."

* * *

They left the battlefield as soon as possible.

Isaac opened the earth and put Petro's remains in a shallow grave, and Rurik marked it with his axe. The hunters didn't question the blatant display of sorcery—there was no time for that.

When the first light painted the skies a paler blue colour, Garet saw the Mercury Lighthouse and the City of Imil in the distance. Still, they travelled in misery for another day. Nik's wound had healed badly and he was in pain. Isaac gained a fever as result of being bitten by those giant rats or wolves and the wounds on his arm became infected. He was so weak he could barely walk.

When they finally neared the city, it was late afternoon. Isaac and Nik were both pale like death and Rurik and Ivan didn't look much better.

The city was located at the foot of mountains just like Vale, and fortified as such. Understandable, since this town also guarded a secret of the world. There was a queue for entrance here, but Garet paid no heed to such details.

He left the group and stumbled over to the guards, cutting the line to beg the guards to let them in first. He said his companions were deathly sick and needed a healer to tend to them or they would die. The guards waved the group forth and Ivan and Rurik dragged the injured and sick towards the gate.

The guards grimaced and then said they couldn't let people carrying unknown diseases in. Ivan quickly let go of Isaac's arm and crawled over to the guards on his knees, crying and begging:

"Then let _me_ in so I can find a healer! _Please! _They need help!"

Rurik and Garet soon joined him on the ground on their knees as well. At this point, no one cared about dignity.

The guards looked at them for a moment and then exchanged a few whispers with each other.

"Fine, you two go in and find a healer," said the first guard, pointing at Garet and Ivan.

"Head across the bridge," said the other, helping Isaac and Nik to the side of the wall. "Imil's Sanctuary is there."

Garet thanked the guards and then rose from the ground. He ran straight into town. Dozens of tents were set up near the entrance and even more refugees and homeless people gathered beyond. All these people must have fled the countryside just like Rurik's family.

Ivan set off like an arrow, tripping his way up the winding roads of the town. Garet ran along with the Wind Adept at a slower pace, but when they reached the bridge Ivan gripped the railing and stopped to catch his breath.

"Stay here," said Garet, motioning to Ivan with a hand as he continued across. "I'll find the healers!"

Across the Imilian River was the snow-covered building that was the temple; the pair of white banners hanging at the entrance told Garet so.

He stumbled into the yard and pushed open the old wooden doors. The temple was dimly lit by candles and small windows let light in from the outside. On the walls were huge tapestries similar to the ones in Vale's temple. They depicted important events in Weyard's history. One of them told the story of the wars of Alchemy. Another depicted the construction of the Mercury Lighthouse and the establishment of the Temple Orders. This temple seemed legit.

Garet sighed and strode along the side of the chapel, approaching the altar and the statue depicting an elegantly robed man with a long flowing beard and determined eyes. His left hand held aloft a spear with a long flowing tassel attached below the spearhead and his right hand rested on the hilt of the sword hanging from his belt. The weapons were real—not carved out of stone, and a ragged banner was wrapped around the statues' shoulders and arms.

"Saint Imil," said Garet, tears filling his eyes as he knelt before the altar.

Of the Four Sages, Garet admired Imil the most. He had the fewest followers of the four, but still braved unending winter to place the final seal. The legend said he was slain in battle as he and his followers fought back an entire army of warmages while performing the sealing ritual.

Garet rose to his feet and wandered to look at the wartorn banner hanging from the statue. Was this real or a replica? He reached out and almost touched it when he suddenly heard the voice of a child:

"Can I help you?"

Garet turned around and met the eyes of a boy with blonde hair and hazel eyes like his own. He seemed to be Ivan's age and he dressed in white and blue robes—the attire was similar to the ones the Valian priests wore but instead of white on blue it was blue on white.

"I-I need a healer!" said Garet, suddenly remembering why he was here. "Could you get your master, please?"

"They're out," said the boy. "I'm in charge when they're gone."

"You're kidding right?" said Garet instantly without thought. The offended look on the boy's face made the Fire Adept instantly regret those words. He cast a wide look around the chapel, trying to see if anyone else was here but the answer was no.

"When does your master return?" he asked.

"I don't know," replied the boy with a slight frown, "Mia went to council and Alex didn't tell me where he went this morning. I'm a healer too, you know—"

Garet sighed and put a hand against his forehead. He shook his head and decided he couldn't wait here forever when Isaac and Nik were still waiting at the gate. The door then opened again, and he turned around hoping that a proper healer had returned, but it was Ivan.

"Where's the healer?" Ivan gasped for breath and his Psynergy aura glowed as he cast Mindread.

"I'm the healer," said the young priest.

Ivan coughed and nodded as he stemmed his Psynergy.

"You'll do," said Ivan, still trying to catch his breath. "Come with me. Please. My friends are injured. Outside the gate. Guards won't let them in."

"Are _you_ injured then?" asked the boy, approaching Ivan and reaching out to help him stand. "You don't look so well yourself. Do you want to sit down?"

"I'm fine." Ivan shook his head, but he accepted the support. "Please, help my friend. He's sick… he needs a healer. Quickly."

The young priest nodded and told Ivan to lead the way. Before leaving the temple, Garet heard something from inside the chapel. He glanced back to see a little girl with pigtails hiding behind the doorframe to another room—was this place entirely run by children?

They hurried back to the gate, where Isaac and Nik still waited. Nik was weakly comforting his niece, saying the healer would arrive soon. Isaac sat propped up against the wall, shivering in the cold.

"There you are!" said Rurik, looking past Garet. "Where's the healer?"

When Ivan dragged the young priest forth, Rurik shook his head in despair. Nik cast a look at the young healer when he approached.

"Heal _him_ first," said Nik, gesturing towards Isaac. "He's in worse condition."

"I know what I'm doing," said the boy, kneeling next to the hunter and asking Rurik where Nik was hurt.

"He was shot here with an arrow," said Rurik, opening Nik's tattered tunic to show the red swollen scar. "Something went wrong when the first healer tended to him."

The young priest nodded. He then pulled out a small candle, matches, and a fancy dagger from his pockets.

"I have to reopen it before I can fix it."

"Have you done this before?" asked Ivan, and again he cast Mindread as the boy prepared his tools.

"Yes," said the young priest quietly, running the blade of the dagger over the flame of the candle. "Mia supervised me then though."

"Who's Mia?" asked Rurik, but no one heard him.

Garet left Nik and went over to check on Isaac. The Earth Adept hung his head sideways and didn't meet his eyes. He stared at his right sleeve which was wet from the pus and blood that poured out from the wounds. They didn't have any herbs to cleanse the wound at the time and Isaac's attempt to close it with Psynergy had made things worse. Garet would have preferred if Isaac got treatment first too, but he knew the procedures. Healers had to make hard choices—who lives, and who dies.

A bright blue light of Psynergy glowed and reflected on Isaac's hair. Nik let out a muffled cry as if someone had just stabbed him. Moments later, the light of magic faded away and the young priest told Rurik's family that Nik should be fine.

"It's your turn now," said Garet, sitting Isaac straight up against the wall as the young healer made his way over to them.

Garet rolled up the Earth Adept's sleeve to reveal the infection. It looked even worse than the wound Rurik walked around with back in the farm. When the healer knelt at Isaac side and touched his forehead, Isaac stared at him but breathily said Ivan's name.

"How long has he been like this?" asked the young healer.

"One day," replied Ivan, putting a comforting hand on Isaac's shoulder.

The healer touched the Earth Adept's face, asking if he knew his own name. Isaac blinked slowly.

"My name is Isaac. I come from Vale."

The child took a deep breath. He placed one hand over Isaac's chest and the other clasped the sticky wound on his arm. He murmured an incantation and then drew upon his Psynergy. A cold blue light spread from the palms of his hands and bled into Isaac's body. Isaac let out a gasp and then shut his eyes tightly as if the healing was physically hurting him. He looked almost ethereal as the light became brighter and brighter. Finally, it stopped and the young priest firmly pushed himself away from the patient. He placed a hand over his forehead and blinked hard, gasping as he almost slumped over on top of the Earth Adept.

Isaac began shivering and put his arms about himself, chattering teeth and curling up as he suffered the after-effects of intense healing.

"He's fine," said the boy, sitting on his knees on the ground. "He needs to rest for a while, but he should be fine."

"What's your name?" asked Garet.

"Justin."

"Justin, thank you for your help. I… I'm sorry I doubted you."

He offered to walk the kid back to the temple since he didn't seem to be able to stand on his own. The young healer nodded silently, extending a hand towards the Fire Adept and letting Garet pull him up to his feet.

"Wait…" said Isaac weakly, suddenly grabbing the bottom of Justin's robes. "Y-you're a member of the temple, right?" he then asked. "D-did you receive any l-letter from Bilibin? A-about the th-th-thieves coming f-for the L-Lighthouse."

Garet blinked and quickly turned to Justin, remembering his true mission. They were here to warn the Temple of Imil and the Mercury Lighthouse's guardians!

The boy seemed reluctant to answer Isaac's question and his hesitant gaze shifted from Isaac to Garet and then to Ivan.

"We sent it," said Ivan, who once again read Justin's mind.

Garet frowned and shook his head, but Ivan didn't care. This kid, he just didn't have any sense for other's privacy, did he?

"You're the templars?" asked Justin.

"Yes," replied Garet. He showed his sword. "We'd like to talk to your master about this. It's important. Could you tell us where he went?"

He shot Ivan a glare, once again telling the Wind Adept to stop his mindreading, which he did this time, though he averted his eyes.

"You'll find Mia in at the in the centre of town just near the big oak," said the young priest. "She's attending council there so I don't know if you should interrupt... but maybe afterwards?"

* * *

He sought his way to the gathering place of the council after carrying Isaac and Nik back to the temple where they could rest. Isaac had insisted to come along but Ivan talked him out of it. Garet used to wonder what kind of power that child had over Isaac, but after catching Ivan using Mindread left and right throughout the entire journey, he was sure that the kid knew exactly what strings to pull in order to make people do his bidding. At the time, he'd let it slide, fearing that Isaac would lash out on the kid again if he caught another lie, but now when they were safe behind stone walls, Garet had to tell Ivan that such behaviour was inappropriate for an Adept.

He walked past the wooden cabins in the west, heading back across the frozen river to the centre of town. The city of Imil had as many similarities with Vale as it had differences. The structures were closely packed together and winding roads connected every part of the city. The oak tree grew in the centre of town on top of a hill, visible afar from where it stood on the city's highest point. Garet followed the townsfolk on the narrow uphill roads to the gathering place—he wasn't alone; they had all come to listen to the council. The meeting was open to the public, unlike Vale where council was held behind closed doors…

The men and women who made the important decisions stood in a circle under the tree and everyone else stood about four paces away around them. Most of the councilmen were middle-aged or older men, but Justin's mistress was surprisingly young. She was easy to pick out from the crowd—the white robes and the hat with the white veil were the most obvious signs, but the metal staff in the form of an ankh was also a giveaway.

Garet didn't know what the subject of discussion was, but it had to be important, right? One of the citizens told him they were discussing what to do about all the refugees, but to Garet it sounded more like they squabbled about how to mobilize the town's defences. The disagreement become hostile after the priestess insisted they move part of the city's defenders to the Mercury Lighthouse. The news convinced Garet that Felix and his accomplices hadn't arrived yet after all, which was a relief.

Yes, the elders had a point in that the city needed to be protected, but if Felix fired the beacons the entire world might spiral down to another Age of Chaos!

Wait, what if Felix didn't even make it to Imil? The monsters plaguing the roads almost killed Isaac and Garet themselves—did Felix even stand a chance? Garet didn't know how to feel about this possibility. On one hand, the world would no longer be in danger if he perished. But on the other hand—Felix was his friend; and where would Jenna and the Elemental Stars be if he died? Garet turned back to the discussion held by the council, trying not to think about the horrible consequences of Felix's death.

"My ancestors have defended the city ever since Saint Imil fortified it," said the priestess. "I know what's important to us."

"Spare me the history lesson, Maria," said one of the men wearing a fur trimmed hat and fur coat. "I know your people's tales. Your time as protectors ended long ago."

"The city has defended itself for the last two hundred years…" said a woman with a red flowered scarf around her head and shoulders. "Your job is to heal the sick and perform the rituals."

"Then you should know I was trained with the rest of your men to fight. You might think my title is antiquated, but I'm not Commander just in name. Ask your men who their captain is, Boris."

"I _know_ your fighting prowess; you don't need to tell me that," replied the man in fur. "It's your ability to _lead_ I question. And that's not only me. All your clansmen left when Alex decided to leave."

"You _know_ Alex is back," said the priestess. "And he's back to stay."

"Then why isn't he here?" Boris extended his arms towards the priestess. "Why is he sending his bride when _he_ should be here."

"Boris, _Mia_," said another man, trying to dissolve the hostility between the two. "If you could please remain civil on the matter, we might have an actual discussion here."

The priestess cast a long look towards the other councilmen.

"You all supported me when I became head of the temple when Alex left. Why are you questioning me now? Milos? Anton? Sigrun?"

"You want to move most of our men to that _useless_ tower you call a _monument!_" said Boris. "We used to have good opinion of you when you were just a warrior, Maria, but you haven't been making sound decisions lately! And this demand of yours is _absurd!_"

Another councilman went on to explain that the city needed all the defenders at the wall since monsters had appeared all over the countryside and people were fleeing here.

"And more will come, Anton, if you don't heed my warning," said the priestess, her words calm like water, yet sharp like swords.

They stared at each other for a moment, neither backing down. Boris sighed and shook his head. He told the priestess her top priority should be training more fighters to defend the city and not worry about an old monument and a stupid legend.

"As someone who's been in a continuous crusade against the monsters in the countryside for the last month, you should know better," he said.

The other councilmen agreed. The priestess let out a sigh and shook her head, but her gaze remained intense.

"I've said enough," she said. As she walked away from the gathering and moved towards the crowd, Garet managed to take a better look at her.

She had an oval face, pink lips and a regal nose. Her complexion was pale, and her eyes were blue. It was probably because of the formal dress and the staff, but despite her plain look she had a commanding presence to her. The crowd parted to let her leave the gathering. She moved in long strides, letting her staff hit the ground like a cane she didn't need. When she finally passed Garet, she caught him staring at her slack jawed and she give him a gaze of contempt.

Garet decided not to approach her immediately and instead followed her until they were out of the gathering area, upon which she herself spun around and confronted him with an icy glare.

"Ah!" Garet quickly threw his hands up in a sign of peace.

He considered Isaac above average height when it came to men—this woman was perhaps just an inch shorter than him.

"Who are you? And why are you following me?"

"I… sent the message…" said Garet hesitantly. "Warning about thieves… I-I… I'm the templar who sent a message to the temple."

The priestess raised her head, pointing her nose up and looking down towards Garet.

"To which temple to you belong?" she asked.

"Uh, Vale," replied Garet, not sure if he'd offended the priestess in several ways. He probably picked a bad moment to approach her, but he had to tell her about Felix and the thieves—Felix was several days ahead of them last they heard of him! "Er… near Mount Aleph—"

"I know where Vale is," said the priestess, giving him a mildly annoyed look. "What I want to know is whether I've made a fool of myself heeding the warning of a nameless monk."

"I…" Garet didn't know how to start the explanation, but suddenly he heard Justin's voice from behind.

"Mia!" he said, shouting as he ran towards them up on the road. "_Mia!"_

The priestess turned around to face her apprentice.

"Oleg and the watch just came to the temple!" said Justin, stopping a few steps away from Garet and the priestess. He panted, trying to catch his breath. "Alex is in trouble! He went to interrogate some suspects from the refugee camp but they were _warlocks_! They beat up _all the guards_ and dragged him out of the east gate!"

"What?" whispered the priestess, but a bright light suddenly flashed behind them. It happened just briefly, but she whirled around and stared towards the east in horror.

Garet looked around. A faint mystical light radiated from the tower that was the Mercury Lighthouse. What did this mean?

"Alex…" She gasped. "_Alex_, hold on! I'm coming!"

She twirled her staff like it weighted nothing at all, flipping the heavy top downwards as she carried it in one hand, sprinting towards the east. Her hat was cast off her head in the process and long blue hair spilled over her back as she ran.

Garet followed her as closely as he could. She was fast—each of her steps sure and heavy as she sprinted through the town. Garet almost couldn't keep up—she turned around the corners and jumped over fences to cut through the city as fast as possible. She was obviously a trained athlete of sort, and she knew the city well.

"_Out of my way!_"

The citizens jumped aside when they heard her voice. Even the guards didn't stop her when she rushed through the eastern gate. They did however, stop Garet. The watchmen's spears crossed in his path and he pushed them in desperation, unintentionally using Psynergy and throwing the guards to the ground.

Garet froze once realizing what he'd done. But upon seeing the guards moan and curse with flushed faces and singed clothes, he decided it wasn't the time to get arrested for assault and hurried after the priestess instead. He didn't have time for explanations. He didn't even have time to go back to get Isaac and Ivan! Swift like the wind, he followed the priestess's footsteps towards the cliff where the tower of Mercury stood in its mystical glow. Was someone accessing the Lighthouse? Was _Felix_ there already? If the legends were true—this might be the beginning of the end.

He reached the entrance to the tower a couple of minutes later. From afar it looked like a pillar, but up close, its appearance reminded him more of a towering fortress with thick stone walls surrounding the beacon. Every brick glowed with ancient magic, and as he passed the gate he found the entrance to the beacon unguarded and wide open as well.

Garet called for the priestess—Mia was her name, right? He needed to tell her who she was dealing with, but he couldn't even get a reply. As he entered the lighthouse, he was greeted by a blinding yellow light and a deafening crash, followed by a loud splash.

Opening his eyes he saw Isaac getting thrown into a wide pool of water in the middle of the lighthouse's heart. The priestess stood in a steady stance with her staff outstretched and a blue orb of light shone above the ankh. A bolt of lightning then suddenly narrowly missed her shoulder and she spun around. Garet followed her gaze. She was looking at _Ivan_. The orb of light flashed and sharp icicles materialized in midair twirling around it like homing darts.

"_No_, wait!" said Garet. He dashed towards the priestess in attempt of grabbing her staff and disorienting the spell, but it was too late.

The icicles cut through the air and flew towards the Wind Adept. As they hit, a brilliant golden light exploded, sending sparks in all directions. Then, Isaac appeared lying on the floor on his side with and arm outstretched. The Earth Adept was wet from top to toe, having thrown himself in harm's way. Isaac shakily propped himself up on his knees and shaky hands, looking sideways towards Ivan. He tried to speak but could only manage a pained moan before collapsing on the floor, coughing violently. Ivan called out Isaac's name and pulled his head into his arms.

"Isaac!" Ivan cried out, and his voice becoming shaky when he saw blood trickle from Isaac's lips. "_Isaac!"_ He began screaming, grabbing Isaac's shoulders and shaking him in desperation. _"Isaac, please! __Say something! __Anything!_"

The priestess then suddenly took a sweeping stride towards the injured Adepts but Garet quickly stepped in the way and grabbed her staff. She was strong, he couldn't wrench it out of her hands, and again she used deadly Psynergy. Seeing noticed the light shining above their heads, Garet shouted at the priestess:

"_Don't hurt them!_ They're my friends!__"

He then turned towards Isaac.

"_Isaac, don't attack!_ She's the High Priestess! She's the guardian of the lighthouse!"

Garet had no idea how Isaac and Ivan ended up here; didn't Ivan say he'd keep Isaac in the temple? But he had to dissolve this fight before anyone else got hurt. Isaac had impulsively jumped in harm's way without preparation. His Psynergy had saved him from the attack, but now he's severely weakened—there was no way he'd be able to defend himself again immediately.

"Your _friends__?_" said the priestess. "_Then why are they here?_ _Why_ did they breach the door_? Why did they attack me?_"

"I-I… W-we… " Isaac gasped for breath. "It was open when we got here!" he finally said, his cry hoarse and his voice anguished. "_And you attacked me first!_ Am I supposed to just take it lying down?"

The priestess yanked her staff away from Garet, jabbing the Fire Adept in the stomach with the narrow end. Garet wheezed and stumbled back. When he regained balance and looked back at her, she stared at him with contempt, seemingly not caring that Isaac probably was suffering from internal wounds.

"_Yes_," said the priestess, staring the Earth Adept down. "Had you laid down your weapons, I wouldn't have had to hurt you."

Isaac gaped at her. He whisked Ivan's hands away and clutched his chest—that breastplate did not help at all. He began using Psynergy to heal himself.

"I wouldn't do that," said the priestess.

The spell backfired and Isaac screamed in pain. His arms became twitchy and he grabbed the front of Ivan's tunic for a sense of support. The boy called out Isaac's name again, fearing that his friend would die.

"_What did you do?_" said Garet.

"He did that to himself," replied the priestess. "I just sealed his magic." She slowly stepped away from Garet and approached the pond, flipping her staff behind her again. She then menacingly eyed back towards Isaac and Ivan. "Now, tell me where Alex—"

Suddenly, every brick in the tower shone again—it was the same blinding light they saw from the city.

"I'll deal with you later," said the priestess.

Turning towards the pond, she raised her staff. She chanted an incantation and used Psynergy. Garet didn't know what spell she cast, but the waters began to swirl in a whirlpool. He hesitantly stepped to the other side and positioned himself in front of Isaac and Ivan in case the priestess would attack them again.

She cast her staff into the whirlpool. Almost instantly, the lighthouse shook and something rumbled beneath the stone floor. Then, the water in the pond suddenly coursed upward in a reverse waterfall. Mia didn't hesitate. With feather light steps she skipped across the surface and into the torrent. Then she was gone.

Garet knelt next to his friends. Isaac pressed both hands against his breastplate, and was finally able to heal his injuries. He grimaced and threw himself into Ivan's arms, making a sound as if he was about to throw up. When he then faced Garet, he gestured towards the torrent.

"Go," said Isaac, moaning in nausea. "I-I… need a minute."

Garet threw a glance at the pillar of water, but when he hesitated, Isaac yelled:

"_Hurry! Felix is probably up there! Go! Save Jenna!_"

Garet stumbled to his feet clumsily. He still wanted to know how Isaac and Ivan ended up in a fight with the priestess, but those questions would have the wait. He stood up and fixed his gaze on the enchanted water. He took a run and then leapt from the edge of the pool. In the next moment, all he felt was the pressure and wetness of frigid water.

He didn't know what to expect—all he knew was that he had to stop Felix—but he didn't know how. With his eyes shut tightly, he clasped his hands in prayer and asked Saint Imil for guidance.

Suddenly, he sensed a light. It was warm, it was bright, and it was comforting. He couldn't feel the cold water anymore.

He felt weightless, floating in ascension to the skies. He opened his eyes and saw a vast plain of clouds and mist. In the far distance, he sighted a slim figure with a flowing cape standing with a spear in one hand and a double-edged sword in the other. The figure turned towards Garet. He couldn't see his face, but the sage had flowing hair and a long white beard that waved in the warm wind. The sage leaned the spear against his shoulder and extended a hand towards Garet.

"You…"

As Garet still drifted closer in ascension, he reached out towards the sage.

"Saint Imil..." he whispered, but before he could take Saint Imil's hand a brilliant light suddenly shone behind the sage and blinded Garet. Saint Imil withdrew his hand, lifting a long-sleeved arm to shield his eyes. Then, the sage was pulled into the light, fading away.

"Saint Imil! _Wait!_" said Garet. He leapt towards the sage, but in the next moment his feet were planted on solid ground and he faced a grey and clouded sky.

The cold unforgiving north wind howled in his ears, and the snow it carried melted against his face. He wrapped his cloak around his freezing body. He cast a wide look around the area.

Where was he? Did Saint Imil drop him in the middle of nowhere, or had his own mind played tricks on him?

Then a blinding ray of light erupted from the ground before him and Garet shielded his eyes with his arms. What was going on?

The light then slowly began condensing into an orb of brilliance floating in midair. For a moment, Garet thought he was standing before the sun itself.

"No…" he heard the priestess from earlier whisper. "The light…"

Light? He'd like to know what the hell this light was. Just as his eyes had become accustomed to the brightness another flash blinded him again. He cursed, squinting and peaking behind his fingers. Isaac was suddenly standing before him, clutching Ivan in his arms. What place was this? Was this the next world?

He took a step forward, testing his feet. He squinted and raised a hand to shield his eyes from the intense light. He looked around, not sure what he was searching for, but the orb of light had a strange mesmerizing power that drew him towards it. He wondered if he'd go blind if he continued to stare at it, but for some reason, he couldn't look away. As he stepped closer, he suddenly saw a dark silhouette next to it.

The person held a spear in one hand and a sword hung from his waist. He wore a flowing cape and was facing the orb of light as well.

Saint Imil—what was he trying to say?

No, wait. That wasn't Saint Imil. Garet squinted and the frail sage-like figure in white became a warrior in blue armour.

Who was this?

Wait, Garet recognized that face; it was Felix's brigand friend!

"_FELIX_!" Isaac suddenly roared over the wind. Apparently, Isaac recognized the thief as well. "_WHERE ARE YOU_? SHOW YOURSELF! "

Isaac yelled and angrily turned around—Felix _had_ to be here if his bandit friend was present.

"_Show yourself, you coward!_" Isaac screamed in anguish. "Are you brave enough to sneak in and light the beacon but too scared to show your face? _Felix!_"

The beacon? Garet turned towards the orb of light and it finally dawned on him that this was the top of the Mercury Lighthouse. But how did they get here? There were no stairs…

"Isaac!" a shrill voice sounded through the distance. Garet thought it was Ivan at first, but then figured it came from somewhere farther away. He cast a look towards the silhouette again and could vaguely see other figures behind, in struggle with each others. The shadows beyond were blurry and he couldn't discern any identifying clothing or weapon. All he saw were two people yanking the third in the middle back and forth.

"Isaac!" said the voice again. "Over _here_! _Felix! _Did you hear that? He's _alive! He's here!_"

It was Jenna. That person in the middle must be Jenna. For a moment, Garet wanted to rush to Jenna's rescue, but upon closer observation, he realized the middle figure wasn't Jenna—it was _Felix_. Jenna stood to the right, yanking at her brother's arm while the other thief—the woman—abruptly let go and punched Felix in the face. Jenna drew a sword from Felix's belt and turned on her, but Felix quickly grabbed Jenna and prevented her from attacking.

"_Jenna!_" Isaac shouted and before Garet knew it the friend had rushed ahead. He drew his sword and sprinted towards Felix and Jenna, not seeing the caped bandit in the middle.

"Isaac!" Garet shouted at him, but the friend was deaf to the world. _It took_ Ivan flinging his arms around Isaac's waist and clinging on for dear life to stop the reckless Adept from running headlong into the enemy's spear or blade.

The thief with the two weapons didn't attack despite being just three paces away from the Adepts. Instead, he took two steps back, putting more space between him and Isaac.

Garet looked back towards Jenna and Felix. Felix was pathetically clinging to his sister the way Ivan clung on Isaac. He seemed to be begging her, but Garet couldn't hear any words. Finally he let go and ran away, fading into the light. Jenna stayed while facing the thief, who slowly gestured towards Isaac. She then threw the sword on the ground and stormed off, vanishing behind a veil of light as well. The thief picked up Felix's sword. Before walking into the light, she called for their last companion:

"_Saturos!_"

The caped bandit shrugged and turned away from Isaac, beginning to leave as well.

"_Cowards!_" Isaac exploded in anger. He then _stupidly_ decided to throw his sword at the thief, but an ethereal shield of flames flashed and Isaac's sloppily thrown sword bounced off it to the floor.

"Psynergy!" said Garet.

"Oh what?" said the thief disdainfully, looking over his shoulder. "You thought you were the only ones blessed with the gift of magic? You are more ignorant than I thought."

Garet placed his hands on the hilt of his sword, carefully watching the thief's every moves. Now when he thought of it, Justin did mention the people who kidnapped his other master were warlocks. He thought it was just Felix beating up all the guards with Psynergy, but he didn't know there was another sorcerer in the group.

The thief turned back and kicked Isaac's sword up to his hand. He tested the balance and looked at the blade, seemingly contemplating on taking it for himself. He seemed unaffected by the fact that he was outnumbered and instead twirled Isaac's sword in mock battle.

"Fine steel…" he then said afterwards. "Shame it's wasted on _you_."

Isaac grabbed Ivan and angrily threw the boy to the ground. He then proceeded to pull out his big hunting knife.

"Hah-hah ha!" The thief laughed. He sounded oddly amused and even cheerful about the situation. Garet couldn't tell whether his enemy was trying to throw him off or was actually slightly mad.

"Why?" said the temple robber, looking at Isaac and then towards Garet. "You survived the eruption. Why did you come here to seek death?"

"Release my friend," demanded Isaac, raising his knife and preparing a spell. "Release Jenna and hand over the Elemental Stars and I'll think about giving you mercy."

The thief looked at Isaac for a moment. He then burst out in laughter a second time.

"You think you even stand a chance against me, _boy_? Do you even know who I am?"

"Your names and titles mean nothing to me," said the priestess, finally stepping forward. Her eyes were bloodshot and she brandished her staff, pointing it at the thief. "But for what you've done to Alex and the Lighthouse, you'll pay for it in blood."

Alex who? Right, she was looking for some other priest who was kidnapped. Wait, that thief was holding a spear with an inscription on the spearhead—that ceremonial spear must have belonged to the missing priest!

The thief looked at the Adepts with an amused grin. He cackled, seemingly in denial.

"Well, this is going to be one-sided," he said, putting the spear under his arm as he reached for his own blade. Flames burst from the scabbard when he drew it, revealing a medium length sword with a tapered blade and a rather large ornate pommel. For a moment, the runes on the blade glowed like red embers, but they faded quickly with the rest of the flames.

The swordsman nonchalantly stepped aside.

"Fine," he said with a slight huff and a smile. "I'll play your game."

He put Isaac's sword on the floor and kicked it back to the Earth Adept. Isaac stared at the sword lying in front of his nose. He didn't touch it.

"Where did you take Jenna?" said Isaac, his voice coming from behind clenched teeth.

The thief ignored him, and took a step back. He lowered his blade and tapped the side of his boot with the tip.

"I've always been curious about the Valian templars' skill and power," he said with a smile, looking straight at Garet. "Couldn't get a proper fight last time…"

"_Answer me__!_" said Isaac, clenching his fists.

Garet gripped the hilt of his sword. What trick was this? He looked over towards Ivan. Why _wasn't_ the little telepath mindreading when he _should_?

"You seem like a sensible one," said the thief, nodding towards Garet. "How about we duel? You. Me. To first blood."

"What?" said Garet, raising an eyebrow as his mouth froze in a ridiculous expression of bewilderment at the end of his statement.

"If you win," said the thief, pointing at Garet with the spear, "I'll come with you; I'll answer any question. I'll even tell you where we're taking your precious Felix."

Garet closed his mouth, though he lowered his eyebrows and carefully watched the thief as he slowly stepped around on the aerie.

"If _you_ lose, however, _you_ come with _me_ and answer _my_ questions," said the swordsman. He then let his eyes wander over everyone surrounding him. "Or we could also do it the difficult way…"

As he took a step towards the Adepts, the runes of his blade glowed for a second again. Could that be a temple issued sword?

"If you mean us beating the living hell—"

"Shut up, Isaac," said Garet, not even looking at his friend as he said those words. His gaze was fixed on the warrior's blade. "That's a fancy sword you have," he then continued.

"And it has never failed me," replied the swordsman with a smile.

"We'll see about that!"

"Shut up, Isaac!" ordered Garet. He glimpsed Ivan keeping a hand on Isaac's shoulder and sharing Mindread with him.

"You don't seem like a man interested in power and riches," said Garet. If they were still talking it meant this thief had morals and could be reasoned with. "So why are you here? Why did you become a thief? Do you even know what Felix is trying to do?"

The warrior chuckled.

"I have many reasons to be here. My quest—"

"_Your quest_ ends here!"

"_Isaac_, you _twat_, _shut up__!_" Garet stared at his friend in disbelief. Would it kill him to _shut up_ for a minute?

"Why are you talking to this _thug__?_" said Isaac, pointing at Saturos with his knife. "Let's run him through! He's buying time for Felix to escape!"

"This_thug_ is a _sorcerer!_" replied Garet, baring his teeth. "Unlike the brigands you beat up in _Vault__,_ _he's not afraid of your magic tricks!_"

"We outnumber this _freak_ two against one—_three,_ if you count Ivan in! _What are you afraid of__?_"

The swordsman gave them a faint smile, neither confirming nor denying Isaac's claims.

"So, the difficult way then?"

He cast a scornful look towards Isaac and then weighed his ornate sword in his hand for a while. Meeting Isaac's hateful stare, he sheathed the sword, took it out of his belt, and then tossed it behind him. The sword flipped through the air and then crashed down on the floor, flames licking the scabbard as it landed erect on its tip between the shattered bricks.

"Let's even the odds, shall we?" said the warrior.

He dropped the spear and placed his hand on his chest, casting a spell. The bindings in his armour loosened and all his equipment: armour, cape, spaulders, bracers—_everything_ fell to the floor in a heap at his feet. He didn't wear mail underneath, just an old patched tunic. Finally he picked up a battle axe that was attached to his belt and then kicked the rest of his equipment aside. Standing in his undergarments and boots, he pointed his axe at the Adepts—ready for battle.

Garet gave the warrior a hesitant look. Was he _insane_? This _had_ to be a trick. He… he probably was an insanely powerful warlock! He… he _wanted_ them to charge at him all at once so he could knock them out with a single spell!

But Isaac didn't care. He didn't even _think_. He let out a mad cry, charging towards the enemy with his knife in hand as if the thief had just insulted his entire family.

The warrior quickly closed in on Isaac to meet his blow, slamming his fist into the knife before Isaac could strike; a shield of energy flashed briefly as he made contact with Isaac's wrist, burning his glove and knocking the knife out of the Earth Adept's hand.

Isaac flinched and the warrior twisted around; he manoeuvred behind him and then launched a kick to Isaac's back, sending the Earth Adept to the floor.

Garet gaped at the temple robber in shock. This thief. He could use a Psynergy shield. This thief... he couldn't possibly _just_ be an outlaw wizard.

The warrior took a wide stride sideways, pointing his axe at the fallen Adept.

"Take your proper weapon," he said to Isaac, pointing at Isaac's blade on the ground with his axe. "You have no chance with a little knife."

The Earth Adept lay sprawled out on the floor in wide-eyed defeat. He slowly propped himself up on shaky hands, staring back at the temple robber in contempt. The warrior didn't move and instead curtly pointed towards the sword with his nose. Isaac clamped a healing hand around his wrist for a second. He then quickly tumbled over to his blade, taking it in his hand and then rolling up to his feet to face the enemy again.

"That's more like it," said the warrior with a smile and a nod, again raising his axe in a battle stance.

Garet stared at the scene, shaking his head in confusion and drawing his longsword. _What_ was this thief's deal?

"Isaac!" said Garet. He pointed sideways with his nose, telling Isaac to sit this one out. But instead of listening the friend leapt into combat in rage.

"_Isaac!_"

The warrior waited for Isaac to come and then quickly blocked all his hits perfectly—his shield only appeared when Isaac's sword made contact. The fourth strike he dodged and then quickly swept aside to the Earth Adept's left.

Isaac made use of his quick footwork, turning and raising his own Psynergy shield in time, but his warding spells were simply too weak. His shield could only take one hit from the battle axe before exploding, and a wave of force sent both combatants stumbling back. The warrior quickly moved his feet and retook a steady stance, but Isaac tripped and fell to the floor. Grimacing in pain, he clutched his hands over his chest. He hiccupped and turned towards the floor, opening his mouth and gasping as blood dribbled from his lower lip and fell on the snow.

Lightning suddenly flashed and crashed down on the thief, making him arc in pain and drop down to his knees.

"_Ivan__!_" Garet turned towards the Wind Adept. The boy cautiously stepped over to Isaac with an arm outstretched, his Psynergy aura shining brightly as he read his opponents mind.

"_Don't kill him!_" said Garet. They still needed to know where Felix went and they couldn't get information from the dead.

"_Ah_," the warrior said, rising and turning towards Ivan too, who flinched and stopped reading his mind, "so you have a Wind Adept… Now _this_ changes things…"

Hearing that, Isaac desperately crawled over in front of Ivan despite his injuries, angrily swiping the air with his sword. He grabbed Ivan's leg and his lips moved, but Garet couldn't hear what he whispered to the boy.

Seemingly unharmed from the lightning, the warrior dropped his battle axe. With a swift movement he raised his hand high up in the air. His sword pulled itself from its scabbard, and a blazing trail followed it through the air as it flew into its master's hand. The warrior's mocking disinterested look was suddenly replaced with what Garet saw as a murderous gaze.

Garet drew his sword and the priestess swiped her staff upwards, summoning a dozen darts of ice. They both leapt into battle simultaneously—the duel was over now; this man wasn't going to play around anymore. This man was dangerous, and if he could shake a lightningbolt off like nothing, Garet didn't want to know what he was capable of with magic.

Garet's longsword clashed against the warrior's shorter but wider blade. The inscription on his longsword shone like molten steel and the runes on the enemy's blade glowed too. Just as he thought; it was indeed a templar's blade. The question was how he got his hands on it.

The warrior retreated and stepped aside, freeing his blade from the bind. He deflected the priestess's darts with his Psynergy shield and then caught her staff in his hand when she swung at his head. Seeing an opening, Garet aimed a cut at the thief's arm but the opponent blocked the attack with his sword. With the thief's both hands occupied, the priestess closed in on him. A Psynergy shield flashed on her knuckles as she delivered a blow towards his face, but the warrior suddenly vanished, leaving a trail of fire and smoke behind.

The priestess flinched and Garet's eyes grew wide. The enemy then appeared behind her from smoke and embers like a demon, cutting her down from behind with his blade.

As her heavy staff clattered to the ground Garet raised his sword in defence, but the warrior came at him with his fist, unleashing his Psynergy shield on his blade with full force. The hand shock threw Garet off and as he readjusted his grip the opponent swung his blade at him once more. He reacted in time to block the hit, but he wasn't fast enough to answer the next move; the warrior guided Garet's blade out of harm's way and closed the remaining distance, slamming his sword pommel onto the back of Garet's right hand with all his might. His grip around the hilt failed, and the warrior wrapped his arm around his shoulder, locking him in place. In the next moment, the Psynergy shield crashed into Garet's face.

_Bamm!_

His world shook and the longsword clattered to the floor.

_BAMM!_

His world began spinning and he tripped aside when the warrior let go. Then, the air in his lungs was stolen away from him when the enemy ran him through with the blade.

Garet fell to his knees, hands clasping over the gaping wound in his abdomen. He looked up to see the warrior standing over him with a horrified expression. And then, in a blur of smoke and embers his greying hair became golden blond and his red eyes faded to blue.

Isaac stood gaping at him with a bloodstained sword in hand. Garet looked back to his wound. The blood gathered over his gloves was leaking out.

Blood.

There was blood all over his gloves.

_Blood._

There was blood all over him—on his gambeson, on his gloves, and in his mouth.

_Blood._ So much _blood_.

His hands began shaking, his limbs became heavy and he barely heard Isaac scream in the distance. His vision dimmed, his strength was quickly drained away. Falling to his knees, he lost his vision completely and slipped into oblivion.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

A continuation of how healing has limitations from chapter six: Different elements have access to different types of healing. Earth, is rejuvenation based. It speeds up the natural healing process so healing something that's infected… yeah, that might kill you. Fire and Water have purging abilities so they can actually cure poisons and disinfect wounds. Wind is unknown because we haven't met anyone with that ability yet.

Monsters are a legit threat in this story. Remember, the trollfight is basically 3 Adepts plus 2 skilled hunters against 1 troll and 2 "rats" and almost everyone is injured and one person dies. Not so fun, right? Well, getting attacked and fighting for your life is not supposed to be fun, so whenever monsters are mentioned in this fic, it's a major threat. People are fleeing for their lives and being uprooted from their homelands. Of course, I'm pretty much forbidden from killing major characters off due to the nature of this fic, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't fear for our heroes' fates. They might not die, but… there might be permanent injuries.

Did I mention Mia is a completely different character again? She's a competent leader in this one and does _not_ trust some random guy showing up at the lighthouse she's supposed to defend.

I've changed the function of the Lighthouses and exactly how they work won't be revealed until much later. But one thing I should say: I've removed the thing where the "lighthouse depowers certain Adepts"-thing. The only reason it even was in the game was to give Saturos an excuse to fail. More about the fight in the next chapter.


	10. – The Calling

**T**he winds rose, sweeping the snow off the lighthouse aerie as Isaac lay face down on the floor with snowflakes gathering under his hair and face.

Damn that kid. Isaac just told him to stay out of the way! Why wouldn't he _listen_?

Isaac groaned. He was hurting everywhere. He could barely move without shaking. That lightningbolt… How could Ivan miss like that? Opening his eyes he saw Garet lying in a pool of his own blood and bleeding out. The priestess lay two paces away from him; face down with a huge gash on her back. Her hand twitched as she tried reaching for her staff, her aura of Psynergy glowing bright as she desperately healed herself.

The light from the beacon prevented Isaac from seeing clearly, but he saw the warlock's silhouette chase Ivan's to the other side of the tower. The winds grew stronger again and he saw lightning flash. Even though the sound was faint in the roaring wind, he still heard Ivan desperately call out for him:

"I-Isaac! _Isaac!_"

The thief kept approaching Ivan in his slow pace with his sword lowered. Lightning crashed around him but never hit. He tapped his sword against his boot in mockery, dragging out the fight.

This bastard, Isaac cursed inwardly. Ivan was just a child! This bastard. He fed off terror, didn't he? Ivan was so afraid he couldn't even hit him point-blank! This bastard…

Isaac shifted around in his miserable position, pressing his palms against the cold wet floor as the winds swept more snow under his hair and to the side of his face.

"Kill him…" Isaac gasped, propping himself up on his hands with difficulty.

Ivan, kill him, he begged inwardly, hoping that Ivan somehow was still using Mindread. Save yourself, Ivan. Strike him down! He doesn't care if you live or die; don't give him mercy. He heard Ivan scream his name again, and once again lightning flashed in the fight's direction.

"Ivan… Ivan, _please,_" said Isaac, clawing at the floor as he struggled to get up despite that every part of his body protested against the labour. "_Be safe._"

How? _How_ could this happen? How did it come down to this?

He saw the thief closing in on the boy, slowly raising his blade. Isaac couldn't see the final strike in the light and the flickering shadows, but the shadow play did show Ivan dropping to the floor.

No.

The enemy was victorious. He stood over Ivan's fallen form.

No…

Ivan—Isaac promised he'd protect him.

Ivan… Isaac promised he'd take care of him.

The warlock spun around his heels. He lifted a hand and used a spell to gather his discarded equipment to his feet. The scabbard flew into his hand and he sheathed his blade, fastened it to his belt and put it back around his waist. The rest of his equipment he gathered on top of his cape, and he tied it up like a bag.

For a moment, the thief looked towards Isaac and his fallen allies, taking note that they weren't all dead, but he didn't do anything about them in their miserable forms.

Isaac fumbled with his hands around the floor and he cast a wild look around, searching for a weapon. Sword, knife, spear—_anything_. Was he truly such a worthless opponent that he didn't even care? His fingers touched cold steel and he reached out, grasping Garet's longsword and pulling it into his hands. This wasn't over.

He took a deep breath and willed his Psynergy to suppress his pain. He gripped his friend's sword tightly, using it as a cane to prop himself up on his knees. This wasn't over yet.

He pushed himself up to his feet, staggering. He balanced on his two feet as best he could, dragging the longsword after him against the floor. The shadowy figures became clearer as he approached the enemy. The thief squatted near Ivan's body, pulling the boy up to a half sitting position.

What was he doing?

Tears rolled down Isaac's cheeks. His hands shook and he staggered from side to side. He raised the longsword with his weary arms. The runes on the blade glimmered for a moment as he yet approached.

This scumbag. _What was this scumbag doing to Ivan's body?_

The thief suddenly froze in his task and turned towards Isaac, who finally let the blade fall towards him in a vertical swing. He caught the weak blow on his bracers and whisked Isaac and the sword aside without effort.

"It's over," said the thief, giving Isaac an annoyed look from the corners of his eyes.

Isaac stumbled and the tip of the sword clattered against the floor, pulling its weak wielder aside. He regained balance, yanking the blade back towards him and lifting it again. No, it wasn't over. Not yet.

He aimed another swing at the thief's head. Tears rolled down Isaac's cheeks as the thief lifted his bundle of equipment and blocked the strike. The warlock didn't even look back as he gave the bag a push and sent Isaac stumbling back, though the Earth Adept managed to keep himself on his feet using the longsword as a cane.

"You're finished," said the thief.

Never, thought Isaac, furiously blinking away tears. If this scumbag wanted to defile his friend's body, he'd have to _kill_ Isaac first. As long as he drew his breath, Isaac would stick to his promises—to save Jenna, to bring the Elemental Stars back, and to protect Ivan.

He brandished the longsword and the inscription on the blade glowed. Again it collided with the damn equipment bag, but this time he managed to slice the cape holding it together, spilling the gear on the floor. He quickly aimed a thrust towards the enemy, but the thief tumbled out of the way with his battle axe in hand. Isaac could barely lift the longsword again before the thief closed in on him and punched him in the face. He grabbed Isaac's collar and then threw the Earth Adept face first to the floor. As Isaac rolled over on his back to retaliate with a spell, the battle axe suddenly crashed down right next to his shoulder, flames briefly exploding from the blade as it cleaved the bricks.

"It's _over_," said the thief coldly as Isaac stared up towards him in wide-eyed terror. He wiggled the axe out from the floor and then brought it down towards Isaac's face. Isaac shut is eyes and swallowed his breath, but the axe crashed down only close enough for the small flames to touch his left cheek and singe his hair.

"We're _done_, boy," said the thief again. "_Understand_?"

Isaac's eyes fluttered open as he stared back at the red-eyed thief. He took in a deep breath, and then nodded weakly in defeat.

"Good," said the thief, his expression cold like a statue. He removed his axe and then gathered up his equipment anew.

Isaac lay flat on the floor. His entire body was stiff and his hands clawed at the floor as the snow continued to fall. His breath came out in ragged gasps and his chest felt too tight.

So he wasn't even allowed to die in battle now? This bastard was going to make him crawl back to Vale alone now, was he?

Turning his head aside, Isaac glanced towards Garet and the priestess who was healing him. He then looked back towards the thief, who hauled Ivan up on his shoulder as if the boy was a sack of flour. Felix's lieutenant carried his bundle of equipment under his other arm and he cast a dismissive gaze back at Isaac as he began leaving the battlefield.

Ivan—Isaac said he'd protect him.

Ivan; poor Ivan. Isaac said he'd take care of him, and now look what happened!

Ivan; he seemed almost just asleep—

—wait. Isaac blinked, propping himself up on the floor as he stared after Ivan and the thief. There was not a single drop of blood on the boy. His clothes and hair seemed singed, and his face was flushed, but Isaac didn't see any gash or wound from a blade.

"_Wait!_" Isaac cried out. He crawled up to the thief and grabbed his foot. "Where are you taking him?" he asked.

The thief sighed and gave him a tired look.

"To Felix, of course."

Isaac swallowed his breath. Felix. How could Felix have become like this? Felix. His best friend Sweet Felix. He gripped the thief's boot tighter.

"Th-then take _me!_" he then said, begging. "T-take me instead!"

"You're not needed," replied the thief, looking away and shaking his foot, but Isaac desperately held on.

"Then you don't need _him!_" said Isaac. This thief. He was taking Ivan prisoner. This bastard. "He's _weak!_ He can't do _anything!_ H-he can't even make a fire without my help! He's _useless!_ He's been relying on me ever since I brought him aboard! He'll only make you lose sleep! But not me! Not _me!_ I can cook. I can hunt. I can heal. I can fight! I-I… can… I-I… I can…"

Isaac's chest was so tight that it hurt. He thought of all the moments he'd spent with Ivan at his side. He thought of how Ivan had leaned against his shoulder at night near the campfire, and how Ivan had said all those things Isaac had always wanted to hear from others but never did. He thought of how he rescued Ivan from thieves in Vault. He thought of how he rescued Ivan from those kidnappers in Bilibin. He thought of the time he lay huddled with Ivan that terrible night he got frostbites and how Ivan had relaxed in his arms and nuzzled against him for comfort. He remembered sitting awake at night by the campfire teaching Ivan Psynergy, and how Ivan watched him work his magic with eyes of adoration. He remembered falling asleep next to Ivan at night and promising himself he'd bring him to Vale and make sure he'll never need to be alone again.

"Take me," Isaac whispered, letting his tears flow freely. "Take _me_ instead…"

"Kid…"

"He's just a child…" Isaac wept, clutching the victor's leg. "Let him go. Please, l-let my brother go. Take me. Take _me_ instead—"

"_Boy!_"

The thief shouted at him and Isaac swallowed his own words with a gasp. Looking up, he found the thief staring down at him with a firm look. Felix's lieutenant then slid Ivan off his shoulder and set him down in Isaac's arms. Isaac quickly embraced the little Wind Adept, crying tears of relief and pressing butterfly kisses to Ivan's face. He blinked to look back at the thief, who grimly said:

"You're both coming with me, then."

Isaac snivelled and wiped the snot under his nose against his sleeve. He nodded pathetically and clutched Ivan tighter, feeling a knot in his chest when he looked past Ivan to see Garet coming to, presumably thanks to the priestess's healing powers. The allies stared back at Isaac in confusion. Garet grabbed Isaac's sword, and the woman once again summoned deadly projectiles in the air.

Isaac quickly tucked Ivan under his chin when a blue light flashed and the woman decided to start another fight. He heard a crash as the thug tossed his bundle of armour in the way of the projectiles. Flames burst from the scabbard as he drew his sword again. He closed in on the priestess quickly, catching her staff on his Psynergy shield before it had gained momentum and then swept aside, dodging the spell from her other hand. In the next moment, the woman shrieked and dropped to the floor as the thief stabbed her in the leg. She fell onto her knees, leaning on her staff as she stared back at the thief with hateful eyes.

"He's coming on his own," said Felix's lieutenant. "Don't interfere."

"I don't care about _him!_" said the woman, her arms shaking as she conjured another dozen of ice darts. The temple robber swiped his sword and a wall of rising flames consumed the icicles before they took flight. He then grabbed the woman's weapon, kicked her on the shoulder and wrenched the staff out of her hands. Just as she cast her next spell, he hit her in the face with the heavy staff head, sealing her magic and sending her down to her hands and knees again. She shakily cupped the side of her face, her nose and upper lip bleeding as she struggle to even sit up.

The thief strode over to his bag of equipment, wiping his blade on the fabric and sliding the sword back in its scabbard.

"Are you coming or not?" said the thief, looking back towards Isaac, dropping the staff and letting it clatter to the floor.

"Y-yes," replied Isaac, catching a glimpse of Garet's shocked expression behind the thief. "Y-yes..."

"Isaac…" Garet whispered, shaking his head, but the Earth Adept looked away.

Isaac blinked and saw Ivan's harebell-coloured eyes open. He hiccupped and instantly pressed Ivan's head against his shoulder.

"Ivan." He whispered comfortingly to the boy. "I'm here, Ivan, don't worry. I've got you."

As the temple robber gestured for him to come, Isaac guided the confused and frightened child's arms around his neck. He stood up with the little Wind Adept in his arms. His feet were still shaky, but he'd recovered a bit of his strength now. He could cast a spell or two, but he didn't. He was no match for Felix's lieutenant, and he couldn't let Ivan get hurt.

Walking past the woman, he heard her snarl and curse him for being a coward, but he ignored her and instead looked to Garet, whose padded jacket was dyed in his own blood. The friend stared back at him in disbelief, clutching Isaac's sword in shaky hands. Isaac offered him a rueful smile, and the sword slid out of Garet's grasp. The Fire Adept sunk down to his hands and knees, beginning to wail and cry.

Isaac buried his face in Ivan's hair. How ironic. He came all the way here to stop Felix and the thieves, thinking they would be no match for him since he was an Adept, but he couldn't even beat Felix's _lieutenant_! How could he fight Felix if even his cronies thought he was a waste of time?

He snivelled, walking slowly as he followed his new master towards the edge of the tower. He was so sorry. This was all his fault. When he heard that Felix had beaten up the guards in Imil and gone to the Mercury Lighthouse, he thought it was finally time to drag Felix back to Vale in chains. But now his damn lieutenant had taken _him_ prisoner.

"Isaac…" whispered Ivan in his ear.

Poor child. He was afraid. Well, _of course_ he was afraid. He was about to be enslaved by a ruthless wizard and Isaac was his only comfort; and Isaac couldn't protect him.

Reaching the edge of the tower, his master gestured towards a small platform hovering at the tower's side. Isaac looked back towards Garet and the priestess for a last time before turning his face away and stepping out on the platform. The thief followed him and tapped the floor with his foot. Ripples of energy spread from his footing to all the bricks and the platform rumbled as it began slowly descending along the side of the tower.

Isaac's knees felt weak. He took a step back and shakily put Ivan down, lowering himself to sit on the floor as well. He felt nauseous and the little Wind Adept returned to his embrace, whispering his name like a mantra. He gently put his arms around Ivan, and the boy let out a broken sob, burying his face in the nook of Isaac's neck. As the platform descended in a snail's pace, Isaac cast a brief glance up towards the thief who stood tall with his bundle of equipment slung over one shoulder. He seemed to be proud of himself, the bastard.

Isaac swallowed hard as the little Wind Adept gripped his round collar for support. He gently caressed Ivan's hand, making him let go of the glass beads he wore under the tunic. He then used Psynergy, touching the boy again on the forehead with his lips, kissing away the light burns on his face.

He wondered how powerful Felix could possibly be. Felix was immensely gifted with magic as a child and he learnt everything effortlessly. How powerful could Felix have become if he specialized in destructive magic? But then, Isaac wouldn't need to wonder much longer since he was being brought to Felix as a prisoner or slave.

He wondered what Felix would do with him. Would he be treated kindly for the sake of old friendship? Or would Felix not care that Isaac used to be the friend who protected him and fought his battles? Did Felix even remember the past?

He thought of Jenna. Poor Jenna. What could have happened to her? Isaac heard her on the lighthouse before Felix took her away. She said her brother's name. Was she on Felix's side now? Had Felix corrupted her? Would Isaac be able to see her again now when he was being dragged to Felix in chains? Would Felix even _let him_ see her?

He remembered the promises he gave himself before leaving his village—he'd rescue Jenna. He'd bring the temple's relics back. He'd capture Felix and bring him back to face justice. Harald had warned him about Felix's trickery. He'd told him Felix would prey on his emotions again if he allowed him to. And he did. Well, it wasn't Felix doing it this time, but his lieutenant sure forced Isaac to surrender by taking another of his loved ones hostage.

Isaac gazed up towards the thief, who glanced back at the Adepts with an uncomfortable look. He gave Isaac a faint smile and then turned away. Yes, a demon like him probably couldn't understand human emotions. Isaac clenched his teeth, gripping Ivan's hand. Then he moved his hands away to grip his mother's beads.

"Don't look at him," he then whispered to Ivan, pulling the hood over the little Wind Adept's head with his other hand. He kissed Ivan's nose and briefly used Psynergy, clamping his hand down on the necklace.

As the platform finally reached the bottom, the thief turned around and decided to lower himself to Isaac's level.

"Felix will be happy to see—"

Isaac's eyes flashed and he quickly threw ground up glass in his enemy's eyes. He pushed Ivan away as the thief let out a bloodcurdling scream. The warlock stepped back, shrieking in agony as he clawed at his eyes. Isaac quickly launched a kick to the back of the thief's legs and threw him off the platform. He then hopped off too, slamming a palm against the side of the elevator and sending Ivan back skywards with a spell.

"It's not over," said Isaac, whispering for himself as he conjured a stone dagger in his right hand. As long as he still drew his breath, he'll fight to the bitter end; honour be damned.

The warlock drew his sword, but Isaac quickly pierced the thief's chest with two summoned darts of flint. Felix's lieutenant let out a gasp and staggered back, swinging his sword in front of him in search for the assailant. His eyes were shut tightly and blood trickled from his slits like tears. With his vision stolen away, he couldn't see the Earth Adept approaching.

Isaac darted at the thief, stabbed him on the arm and then twisted the dagger; drawing a roar of fury from his enemy and forcing him to drop the sword. He elbowed the warlock on the chest, and then tackled him to the ground but as Isaac went for the finishing blow the thief dropped him to the floor with a sweeping kick. Isaac cursed and flipped the heavy dagger in his hand, holding it point down as he lunged at the thief and stabbed him on the thigh, drawing another cry of anguish from his prey. Quickly, Isaac straddled the thief. Raising his stone dagger with both hands, he went for the kill.

"_Die_," said Isaac, bringing the dagger down, but right before the blow could connect, he froze. Why? Why did he freeze? And why did his arms begin shaking when he tried forcing himself to go through with it. Tears of rage rolled down his face. Why? Why was he hesitating? This bastard almost made him murder his friend and he was going to take Isaac and Ivan prisoners!

"_Gah!_"

Isaac's breath was suddenly knocked out of him when the thief's conjured shield smacked him in the face and placed a burn on his cheek. In that split second of weakness, the thief caught Isaac's neck and then slammed him sideways against the floor. Isaac's eyes widen when he noticed the burning heat on the warlock's palm. Quickly, he grabbed the thief's wrist and shards of flint pierced his forearm, but the enemy didn't let go.

He screamed as the hand around his neck became hot like a brand, but the pain was brief as a wave of cold water suddenly washed over his face. He opened his eyes to suddenly see the priestess from earlier slide across the surface in a dreamlike dance, her hair and bloodied clothing flowing in a mystical wind and her eyes shining with elemental energy. And then, before he knew it, he was cast into the air by a rising torrent of water. Isaac crashed on the floor, not sure how many bones he just broke. He couldn't feel his limbs and he couldn't breathe under the water.

Before his vision dimmed he saw Garet descend from the tower on a steed of flames, leaving trails of flames behind; his eyes ablaze and his soul separated from the rest of the world…

* * *

He awoke in complete darkness. He opened his eyes but he couldn't see. He didn't know how long he'd slept or where he'd waken up.

Isaac fumbled on the surface he lay upon; it was smooth as glass and quite cold too. He sat up. He wobbled to his feet, standing and waving his arms in the nothingness. Was he blind?

He tried calling out to his friends. But he couldn't speak. He stumbled forward on the cold surface on bare feet, swiping his arms in attempt to find something that could give him any sense of direction.

Was anyone here? Was _anything_ here?

Suddenly, he lost foothold. His heart jumped to his throat as he fell. He tried to scream, but he had no voice. And he kept falling, falling into what seemed like an endless abyss.

Help.

Garet.

Ivan!

Help.

Someone help me!

Anyone! _Anyone_, help me!

I don't want to die like this.

Then finally, he hit the bottom of the abyss, falling to his hands and knees. It didn't hurt, despite that the surface was flat and cold like stone.

"Finally…"

Hearing a calm and distinctively male voice speak, Isaac sat up on his knees, turning his head around and searching with his blind eyes and flailing arms. The voice didn't sound friendly. His heart beat like a drum and he tried to scream, but he still couldn't make a sound.

Who is it? Show yourself!

Three specks of light—one warm yellow and two cold white, suddenly began glowing five paces away from Isaac. He began hearing footsteps. He quickly stood up, backing away as the lights approached him. He fumbled after his sword or knife, but realized he had nothing on him except his linen undershirt.

Out from the shadows stepped a child; a beautiful child with brown dishevelled hair, friendly dark eyes, and a yellow scarf around his neck. He held a chicken in his arms, affectionately stroking the bird's feathers and mending its clipped wings; the specks of lights circling him like big fireflies.

Felix—

Felix!

Isaac felt something stinging his nose and eyes. He wanted to cry, but when he blinked he found no tears.

"Why didn't you save me?" said Felix, but it wasn't his voice.

Then, Felix suddenly tucked his face into the bird's feathers. The floor became an illusion of water and Felix fell in with a splash, vanishing in the ripples and waves.

But the specks of lights swirled about the watery surface and suddenly a man in a padded jacket and a green scarf appeared in Felix's place. He waved towards Isaac with a smile. He held a ceremonial spear in one hand and a longsword hung from his belt.

Dad?

Dad!

Could this be his father's way of contacting him from the dead?

Captain Kyle's being then shattered in sparks of light and faded into the darkness.

"You didn't save me," sounded the voice again and Isaac was certain it didn't belong to his father.

Again, the lights circled and out from the shadows stepped a man in fur, holding a bow with an arrow in hand and staring sideways into nothingness.

Petro—

He shot the arrow into the void, and then, he too vanished in sparks of light.

"You could have saved him…"

_Who? Who _is it? Isaac flailed his arms and gnashed his teeth in frustration, angered by the loss of his voice.

Show yourself! _Show yourself, coward!_ Don't hide behind illusions!

"As you wish, _Master_."

Out of the darkness stepped a young man with golden hair, cornflower eyes and a somewhat pointy nose. And Isaac realized it was his own voice he'd heard. The man was a mirror image of himself. Except, the doppelgänger was well groomed and clean, and he didn't wear any of Isaac's rags. He was dressed in the Valian Order's regalia. The templar held a ceremonial spear in his left hand and the inscription on the spearhead glowed in a steady light. His other hand rested on the pommel of a sword—his father's longsword; reforged—hanging from his belt. As Isaac once again looked at his face, the young templar smiled—a wicked, sinister grin.

Isaac backed away as the doppelgänger approached him. Again, he grasped after his sword or knife, forgetting that he was wearing nothing save for his undergarment. He raised his hands towards the doppelgänger, willing a spell forth, but his Psynergy didn't respond and his hands remained empty.

Who are you? Isaac questioned, powerless and trapped in the void.

"We are you," said the templar, moving closer still with a steady pace, his boots making a clear echoing sound on the floor for every step he took. "We are what you could have been—and what you want to be. We're here to help."

_Demon…_

Isaac backed away. He turned around to run but his limbs were suddenly pulled down towards the ground. A circle of light glowed beneath him as he was forced down to his hands and knees in immobilization. He had no idea what was being done to him, but he knew it was Psynergy.

Was sorcery was this? Was this one of Felix's tricks? Did he place Isaac in this realm of torment to watch him squirm for his own amusement?

The doppelgänger strode over to him and knelt by his side.

"You are frightened, Master," said the doppelgänger in disdain, tilting Isaac's face to look at him with the spear. Isaac stared back at the templar in terror. His blue eyes seemed almost violet in the light of the giant fireflies circling around him.

Felix—

Felix, please.

You were my friend.

You were _my brother_.

_Please!_

A wicked smile appeared on the young templar's lips again. His eyes gleamed in the light of magic.

The young templar stepped away from him and then waved his spear, conjuring a large boulder in the void. The inscription on the spearhead glowed and enveloped the weapon in a brilliant yellow light. The templar threw the golden spear towards the stone and it drew a tail of light in the darkness before piercing the rock. A bright light gathered around the spearhead and the rock shattered.

Isaac turned to stare at the templar open-mouthed. His father could do that, but he never had the chance to teach Isaac the technique. Isaac had tried replicating it for years, but never succeeded. He looked towards the doppelgänger who solemnly gestured towards the void in front of them again.

Suddenly, Felix's lieutenant stood in front of him with a blade in hand.

The doppelgänger drew his sword and sparks of light rolled out from the scabbard as the blade left its housing. Two of swords of light materialized above the enemy and flew at him like arrows. The thief dodged and blocked, but the seeking blades shattered his shield and speared him from different directions, bringing him down on his knees. The young templar brandished his sword, letting a trail of golden dust fall from the blade as it cut through the air, and a ray of light emerged from under the enemy's feet, pulling up huge rocks and debris from the ground. The stones piled on the thief and then returned to the earth, crushing him in an unmarked grave.

As the magic faded away, the doppelgänger turned back, placing the sword across his palms as he steadily marched back to the stunned Adept.

Isaac's jaw slackened. He gasped as he suddenly regained the ability to move. The doppelgänger approached him with a steady pace, his father's sword balanced across his palm in silent invitation.

Isaac rose to his feet, trembling as he rose to meet the smiling mirror image of himself. He didn't think. He reached for the sword. He wanted that power. Only with that amount of power could he protect the people he held dear.

_"Isaac?"_

He froze in his movement, hearing a shrill voice calling out his name. It sounded like it came from the distance far away, echoing through the emptiness. Isaac recognized it. It belonged to someone he knew and cared about.

_"Isaac, where are you?"_ said the voice again. _"Isaac!"_

Isaac withdrew his hand and turned away from the sword, looking for the source of that voice. It was a boy, but who? Who was calling for him? Who was this child who made his heart tremble with his desperate cries?

"How troublesome," said the doppelgänger, lowering his hand as the sword vanished in sparks of light. "You have an _anchor_…"

The templar sighed, and then he disappeared too, returning Isaac to complete darkness.

_"Isaac?"_ said the boy, sounding hopeful and relieved.

_"Isaac!"_ he then cried out in terror. _"Isaac, no!"_

It was Ivan! What was going on? Ivan was so scared. His terrified voice came from all directions.

Ivan! Ivan, where are you?

He tried to cry out, but his voice was still gone.

_"Isaac, what are you doing?"_ said the little Wind Adept. _"Isaac, no!"_

Ivan let out a half muffled cry.

Ivan!

_"Mmf! Isaac. Isaac, listen to me! Isaac— Stop! Isaac, PLEASE!"_

After the screech of that last word, there was suddenly a moment of silence. Isaac froze for a moment, but then Ivan let out a muffled cry and then a gasp. Someone was hurting him.

"_Isaac—! It's me—it's Ivan…_" Ivan whimpered, gargling as if someone was strangling him slowly._"Isaac, please— Isaac—"_

No!

He began running, twirling around and searching for an exit from the darkness. There had to be a way to escape this place!

Don't hurt him! _Don't hurt my brother!_

_"I-Isaac—Isaac, pl-please—I-Isaac, i-it's me…"_

It was the doppelgänger! What was he doing to Ivan?

Let him go.

Let him go!

_"Let him go!" _Isaac finally yelled, his word echoing into the void as he regained his voice.

Suddenly, Isaac lost footing and fell, the floor opening up and swallowing him whole.

"When you change your mind, Master," he heard his own voice echo into the distance, "call upon us again."

Isaac fell.

And he kept falling. Falling and falling… It was an endless fall again.

The darkness consumed him. His limbs became heavy. He felt lightheaded. Even though everything was a dark void, he still felt the world spin. Then, his fall abruptly ended and his vision returned.

He sat in a dark room illuminated by faint moonlight, and he stared down at a familiar shadow—his hands covering the neck of the fragile person he straddled on the floor.

"Isaac… Isaac… Isaac…" said the boy beneath him, gasping in fear.

"Ivan!"

Isaac felt a pain in his chest and he let go of Ivan, getting off his stomach and sliding a weary arm under the little Wind Adept's shoulder to hold him up. Ivan's lips were bleeding and his face was swollen. Saints… how did this happen? _Oh gods!_ _Why_ did this happen? His chest hurt from seeing Ivan so broken and tears welled up in his eyes. When he pulled Ivan into his arms, the pain in his chest intensified and looking down, he saw a silver dagger gleaming in the moonlight; it was deeply embedded in his chest, and his linen shirt was drenched in his own red blood.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

The Djinn. Some writers just outright remove the Djinn when they do their "novelizations" for various reasons. Some big ones are 1) they seem to be hard to fit into the story and distract from the characters and 2) they give free bonus powers that our heroes haven't worked for.

In my version, they stay. I've worked them into the story in a pretty good way without having to deal with an additional 72 "characters". I won't outright tell you how they work in this fic right off the bat, but I've made them more… interesting.

In the game, Saturos is "defeated by the Lighthouse", which I think is pretty dumb. You could literary make him say "I let you win" and that would still be a better twist. I get it, he got defeated because of his pride. I get it, he's proud and arrogant, but he's still and idiot. How do you even miscalculate your odds in that kind of situation? It's a 1 vs. 4 so the odds are not in your favour. You don't want to fight multiple opponents at once. And on top of that, your enemies have access to projectiles. And you go into that kind of a fight when the Mercury Lighthouse takes away almost all your AoE and protection spells? Pretty dumb.

Still, I probably should elborate on the fight in the actual fic too.

As I've stated in the previous chapter, no one is depowered the by the Lighthouse. This makes it less contrived that Saturos would walk into the fight to begin with. He's still rather arrogant, but he isn't a complete moron. He wouldn't walk into this fight if he lost all his defensive spells and his odds were complete shit. Also, he doesn't even want a 1 vs. 4. From a gameplay perspective that works because he's a boss-character with a large amount of HP. Here, he's just one guy.

So why does he drop all his gear? Intimidation.

All was going well until Ivan decided to show off his OP skills. Remember that the elements aren't equal and Ivan's powers are inherently more devastating than everyone else's? (He also is a Wind Adept, which is needed for accessing the Jupiter Lighthouse. You probably already figured out this is the reason he tries to take Ivan away.)

In the game, Saturos simply loses because Isaac and company overpowers him.

In my version, he doesn't lose the "main" fight and is defeated by Isaac's cunning.

Hm, I wonder what would have happened if Isaac hadn't picked a second fight and instead gone to meet Felix...


	11. – Brother and Sister

**J**enna scrubbed the pots and pans, grinning as she shone the metal so hard that it glistened like brand new. She hadn't been this delighted since… well, since _forever_.

Isaac and Garet were alive and all her efforts of causing trouble for the thieves hadn't been for naught. The Order hadn't forgotten about her at all! Isaac and Garet were on a crusade to save her and Felix!

Sure, the witch immediately called for a quick retreat as soon Isaac and Garet arrived on top of the Lighthouse, but it was just a matter of time before Jenna's friends caught up with them again. And as soon Isaac and Garet were here, it would all be over.

At first, she'd worried about her friends fighting Saturos. Jenna knew the thug had a magic sword and could wield fire, but after Felix returned from his rescue mission with the blinded thief, all her doubts were gone.

Oh Isaac. Wonderful, clever Isaac. He knew how to deal with bullies and lowlife thieves. Oh Garet. With justice and faith he could win any battle. Never change, Isaac. Never change, Garet.

Jenna put the cooking utensils away on the dry cloth and emptied the small wooden tub with dirty dish water on the ground. Packing up, she made her way back to the fishing village with the sun rising behind her.

It's been a couple of days since the escape from Imil. It was a shame that the Light of Mercury couldn't be prevented, but at least Jenna could rest assured that everyone in the world was hunting the temple robbers now.

Casting a look towards the highway, she saw Felix hauling up luggage on a cart. Saturos fumbled with his hands, blind like a bat, trying to be useful but failing miserably. Jenna stifled a laugh. As she approached the cart, Felix briefly met her gaze and then defiantly looked away. The brother hadn't said a word to her ever since returning from his rescue mission.

Oh Felix. Sweet Felix. Keep sulking, Felix. When your two best friends come to free you, you'll be crying tears of joy.

Jenna tossed the pots and pans up on the cart, hitting Saturos square in the face. Felix instantly grabbed her collar and shot her a glare, but Jenna's grin just widened.

He could say whatever he wanted, but he wouldn't ever be able to bring himself to hurt her or leave her behind. She was his sister. She held too many precious memories and the mere thought of her being endangered would make him fly to her rescue. Felix was truly her guarantee of safety. The thieves had a strange sense of honour. She'd long figured they wouldn't hurt a hair on Jenna's head as long as Felix didn't permit it. And Felix wouldn't ever permit it. He was her brother through and through and nothing could change that.

Felix sighed and let go of Jenna's collar, his eyes twitching with rage, but he couldn't bring himself to slap the grin out of Jenna's face. Instead, he climbed up on the cart to see how hurt his master was. Saturos cupped his nose, whisking Felix away with his free hand as he repositioned himself on the cart. He readjusted his cloak and pulled the hood over his head, looking more like a crippled tramp than a proud fighter. With all the shrapnel that went into his eyes, Jenna doubted he'd ever be able to see again. He was completely useless now; the witch would've left him to die if Felix and Alex didn't _insist_ going back to the lighthouse to rescue him.

Two Adepts went back after the loser, but only Felix managed to return with Saturos. Alex didn't show up at the crossroads and the witch, the unfettered leader, refused to wait for him. She was probably scared of the Imilian watch hunting for them.

Jenna wished Isaac and Garet were here too see them now. After all cruelty they had been subjected to in Sol Sanctum, they deserved to see how low their enemies had fallen. They were so weak now. This was a golden opportunity to strike at the thieves. The pansy healer was gone, probably skewered by an Imilian javelin on the highway. The stupid thug was blinded and useless. The only one who could pose any threat was the witch.

If Felix hadn't watched her like a hawk for the last two days, Jenna would've taken a stab at the witch herself. She knew she was pushing her luck now as Felix had grown resentful of her "pranks" in Imil. Still, Jenna couldn't forget the look on his face when she returned to the Imilian inn and he was still completely naked and cooped up in the room.

Her initial plan was to report the thieves to the Imilian temple after Felix had gone to sleep, but those plans were abandoned when she found Alex rolling around in the snow and being _way_ to friendly with the members of the temple.

They called him by his first name. The children; the two young novices, climbed all over him and he didn't seem to mind having his face shoved into the snow. And the High Priestess… she brushed off his clothes, taking off his white cloak and sneaking him a kiss at the doorsteps. From the way they exchanged smiles, Jenna could tell they had a long history.

That night, Jenna returned to the inn and weighed her remaining options. She knew the Lighthouse would be invaded the next morning, but what could she do? She couldn't go to the temple—Alex had everyone there wrapped around his finger. She couldn't steal the Elemental Stars—she was no match for the witch. But she figured she could still cause a huge ruckus in town and force the remaining authorities to get involved. And with a little luck, she could free her brother and get away unscathed too.

That night, she snuck out and deliberately spooked the animals in the refugee camp. She set fire to the stables and made sure that people saw an arsonist leaving the scene. In the morning, she tied her brother to the bed and took all his clothes, hiding them behind a rock near the river. Then, she left and told the watch about the arson, framing the witch and the thug for a number of crimes. She told the guards she and Felix had been kidnapped from Vale and that the witch would try to capture them again. Jenna would have returned to the inn earlier, but the watch insisted she stayed until the thieves were apprehended. The witch was about to explode at the sight of Jenna being in the Imilian watch's custody when she was being taken to jail.

The plan was flawless. The thieves had been arrested and Jenna and Felix were free. The Elemental Lighthouses were safe and who cared about Alex when this misadventure was finally over?

She shouldn't have underestimated Alex. She shouldn't have underestimated Felix either. After retrieving her brother's clothes, she returned to the inn. Felix sat on the bed with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He'd untied himself and he was seething with rage.

"_What_ did you do?" said Felix, baring his teeth and rigidly pointing towards the window with an index finger. "I saw Menardi and a bunch of refugees being taken away by guards!"

"It's nothing serious. They've just been arrested for arson, kidnapping, rape and murder," replied Jenna with feigned innocence, shrugging her shoulders.

Felix's intense gaze landed on the clothes Jenna carried under her arm.

"Give back my clothes," said Felix, reaching out a hand towards her.

"You want them?" asked Jenna with a smirk. "Then come get them."

The brother lunged at her, but Jenna quickly whirled aside and dodged out of the way. Felix caught the corner of his ragged cloak, but Jenna didn't let go. The brother shoved her into the wall, but she threw the clothes up towards the ceiling. When Felix's gaze followed the fabric, Jenna tackled him to the floor and straddled him, pinning his wrists against the floorboards. He let out a pathetic cry and began struggling in her grip, but couldn't free himself. Jenna might be the smaller of the two of them, but Felix was all skin and bones—how could he ever hope to win in physical combat?

"_Why__?_" said Felix. He then hissed at her. "_Get off me__!_ Get off me or I'll _scream__!_"

"_Good_, scream and bring in some strangers," replied Jenna. "We'll see which of us ends up in trouble."

Felix held his breath.

"You wouldn't," he said, staring back at her in horror and disbelief.

"Try me."

"I'm your brother!"

"Glad you remember that, big bro."

Hearing that, Felix turned away, seemingly about to cry. Poor Felix. Poor Sweet Felix. Jenna did feel a slight guilt in constantly tormenting him—he was her brother and she loved him nonetheless. But he needed to understand that he was walking down a path of darkness and that she was trying to turn him back to the light.

But as soon Jenna let go of his wrists, Felix's eyes flashed and his sad look became a cold stare. He flung her off him with Psynergy and trapped her in a bubble of energy. She screeched and punched at the barrier, but judging from her brother's unfazed expression as he gathered his clothes, she could tell that no one could hear her.

As she waited for the spell to wear off, she stared at Felix, who trembled with rage as he slipped on his clothes. For the first time in months, she wondered how powerful her brother really was. She wondered if he could outright crush her with this spell that he originally invented for defensive purposes. Felix was an immensely gifted Adept. She'd known that all her life. But how powerful had he become after years of training with brigand mages?

The ward wore off the moment Felix unlocked the door and exited the room. Jenna didn't waste any time to think. She wrestled her brother to the floor, telling him she'd kill him before letting him go back to the thieves. She had bided her time for months and she wasn't going to let Felix's stubbornness ruin everything. Felix fought back—he was committed to go rescue the damn thieves, the idiot—How far gone was he?

They eventually tumbled down the staircase and crashed on the bottom floor. The staff of the inn finally separated them. It all boiled down to an insane argument with Jenna's barefaced lies against Felix's panicked screaming. Anya had her staff take them to the backyard to not bother the other patrons. After checking the records and finding that Felix had already paid for the room, she ordered the staff to outright throw the troublemakers out.

Felix hurried to the barracks, arriving just in time to see Menardi and Saturos leaving the building. Apparently, Alex was a man high up in the ranks of command in Imil. He had demanded to interrogate the arsonists personally, and of course it turned into a hostage situation just like in Sol Sanctum.

The thieves dragged Alex out of the east gate.

"Don't follow," said the witch. "We'll set him free when we're safe."

Alex opened the gates to the Mercury Lighthouse. Jenna couldn't tell if he was being coerced into his task or not. He didn't say a single word when he led the group to the tower but the disgruntled look in his eyes showed that he didn't approve of Menardi's plan. Felix had to tell the others to not rush him when Alex traced the lock with a spell in hand and made the gates swing open. Inside, he threw his spear into the large basin in the middle of the tower, making the water rise skywards in a powerful torrent. He gestured to the spectacle and then left the beacon without a word.

The thieves didn't care about Alex running off. They jumped into the pillar of water and vanished. When Felix followed them into the torrent, Jenna took up the chase, hoping to be able to salvage the situation… somehow.

She was pulled upwards by an other-worldly force and blinded by a light. When she could see again, she was standing on top of the tower with the howling wind in her ears. The thieves already had the Mercury Star out and were seemingly looking around for a pedestal or mechanism to activate the beacon.

That made Jenna jump into action. She had bided her time for months, but when she saw the witch holding the Mercury Star in her hand, she stopped thinking and just acted. She jumped the witch, trying to take the jewel from her. She clawed at her face like there was no tomorrow. If the witch killed Jenna in retaliation, at least she'd die a hero. Maybe if Felix watched his sister die at the hands of these thieves, he'd finally come to his senses and return to the path of righteousness.

The witch just tried to push Jenna away; she didn't expect Jenna to put up such a violent fight. All the time she'd just seen her as Felix's spoiled little sister who couldn't fend for herself. That day, Jenna showed her. She grabbed Menardi's hair and set it on fire. She aimed a blow at the witch's face and cracked her nose. She managed to claim the Mercury Star with that assault, but the other thief stepped in. Unlike the witch, he went in prepared and he also had size advantage, towering over Jenna with at least a head's height. She failed shoving her elbow in his face, which in turn allowed him to grab her arm.

"_Enough_," said Saturos, reaching towards her other hand that clutched the Mercury Star. "Give that to me."

Jenna stomped his foot, drawing a pained grunt from the thief, but he hooked her leg with his other foot and broke her stance, dropping her to one knee. In a moment of desperation, Jenna hurled the marble towards the wide circular opening on the floor that she hoped was an endless abyss to the Underworld.

The temple robbers froze as the jewel vanished. Felix and the thug just stared at the hole, but the witch grabbed Jenna's hair.

"You little devil…"

Jenna saw the blade of a knife glisten. Yet, she just grinned in her moment of victory. But then a pillar of light surged from the opening where the Mercury Star had fallen, blinding her and everyone in its vicinity.

Yes, Jenna fired the beacon. But it probably wouldn't have mattered who did it. She was being overpowered and Felix did nothing to help her. Felix, who refused to help her even after Isaac and Garet showed up on the tower like heroes coming to their rescue. Felix, who ran away instead of fighting back against his captors even when the time had arrived…

"_Jenna!_"

Hearing Felix's voice, Jenna turned around to face her anxious brother. Felix's eyes were bloodshot and he looked both angry and anguished at the same time.

"What?" asked Jenna, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the supply cart, averting her eyes dismissively. She yelped when the brother seized her cloak and pulled her away from the cart and out of Saturos's earshot. She stumbled towards the side of the road.

"Did you mess with the supplies in Imil?" said Felix, finally let her go and pointing an accusing finger at her.

"What are you talking about?" asked Jenna, glaring at her brother.

"Everything was covered in mould when I opened the bags!"

"Oh, so it's _my_ fault the food is going bad?" said Jenna, throwing her hands up in the air. "Maybe you should have checked if the food was _fresh_ before buying it instead of blaming me."

"Who else could have done it if not you?" said Felix, grabbing Jenna's wrist.

"I _eat_ your food, you idiot!" Jenna shouted at her brother, causing the brother to flinch for a second and even avert his eyes in shame. "Do I look like I want to get sick? Who do you take me for?"

Felix clenched his teeth, and he clutched Jenna's wrist so tight that it hurt. Yet, his despicable appearance hurt her more than his grip. He looked like the walking dead. He was pale like death, his lips were chapped and broken and he had black bags under his eyes. Why couldn't he just sleep through the night instead of trying to keep watch? He wasn't fit for this kind of life.

She cast a glance at the ornate warhorn hanging from his belt. The witch gave it to him after Saturos lost the ability to see—to mark him as an important member of the team. Ever since Felix received the stupid horn, he'd taken it upon himself to make sure Jenna didn't cause more trouble. He hadn't slept any good ever since leaving Imil and had jumped to attention at the mention of his own name. Jenna had wished for her brother to grow a spine for months, but this wasn't what she wanted.

"Let's _leave_," said Jenna, once again trying to coax him with a sad look, "Isaac and—"

"_No_," said Felix curtly, the look in his eyes becoming grim and cold. He released her arm, almost throwing it aside as he turned around and slowly dragged his feet back to the village.

Jenna watched him leave and blinked away her tears, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She looked past her brother to see the residents of the small fishing village packing up and heading towards the carts and carriages on the road. Felix helped them loading the remaining carts, taking the supplies off the villagers' hands. Jenna kicked a rock into the ditch near the road, looking up towards the cloudy grey skies. She heard a faint thumping sound from the caravan and snorted when she saw Saturos playing on a small drum. So he was a musician now eh?

Looking back towards Felix, she saw an old man grabbing Felix's arms and pointing behind the cart he was standing next to. Felix froze and he then left what he was doing, running off towards the direction the villager had come from.

Curious of what could have caught her brother's attention, Jenna untangled her arms and slowly made her way back to the village. She looked towards Felix's direction and saw her brother kneeling on the uphill slope over what looked like a dead body. A few other villagers stood over the corpse too, whispering among themselves as Felix examined it.

As she approached, she recognized the white robed figure lying on top of a blanket on the ground—Alex. His chest rose and fell at a slow pace, so obviously he wasn't dead, but he looked horrible. His robes with soaked with mud and blood and his white cloak was tattered.

"What happened?" asked Jenna, but Felix was too busy undoing Alex's clothes to care. He fumbled at the brass buttons with his clumsy gloved fingers, seemingly having trouble to open the white overcoat.

Seeing her brother's distressed face, Jenna shook her head. She pushed Felix's hands away and quickly undid the buttons while telling him to take off his gloves. Of all the people who had a hand in Sol Sanctum's destruction, Alex was probably the person she hated the least. He might have been obnoxious with his constant offering of help, but after seeing how well liked he was in Imil, Jenna began wondering if his kindness hadn't been genuine.

Felix took off his leather gloves as Jenna undid Alex's belt and opened his coat, revealing a soaked and bloodstained shirt underneath. The brother cut the shirt up with his knife and tore the fabric open, revealing several badly healed gashes on Alex's pale and wrinkled skin. He seemed like he'd been lying in a dirty swamp for days.

"Jenna, can you purge wounds?" asked Felix, suddenly lifting his gaze to look at her.

"You mean if I can heal?" said Jenna. "No, I can't…"

Felix sighed.

"Then, could you fetch Menardi?" he said. "She's behind that house." He pointed past the road towards a small shed uphill. "Please."

Hearing her brother beg, Jenna sighed in defeat and slowly made her way towards the building. As she neared the shed she heard the sound of digging and crying.

Two young girls stood at a shallow grave as the witch filled it earth, burying a body who presumable was the children's relative. Seeing Jenna approaching, the two girls held back their sniffling and eyed at her with wary looks, taking a few steps closer to Menardi. The witch finished filling the grave and cast a glance over her shoulder towards Jenna. Her bare head and pointed ears were covered with a ragged scarf and her ridiculous make up was gone. Without armour and the polearm, she looked almost like an ordinary farmer's wife. Jenna even dared to say she had a face that many men in Angara would consider beautiful.

"What do you want?" asked Menardi.

"Felix's looking for you," replied Jenna evenly.

"I'm busy," said the witch.

"It's Alex. Some people found him in a swamp or a ditch. He got some infected wound."

"Then _deal_ with it. You're a _Fire _Adept, aren't you?"

"I don't know how to heal. Or purge or whatever."

The witch groaned in annoyance. She brushed her hands against each other and cleansing flames quickly washed her hands and forearms before becoming mere sparks and vanishing in the wind.

"I'll be back soon," she then said to the young girls, petting the children on their heads before heading downhill to where Felix was.

Jenna watched the witch leave, rather puzzled that she had nothing more to say. When she turned back to the children and the grave, she noticed half a dozen wooden grave markers sticking up from the earth. The snowless mounds told Jenna that they were recently filled.

She looked at the children standing guard over their family member's grave. Jenna's heart sank when she couldn't find the rest of their family anywhere. She pressed her lips in an awkward smile, giving the children a little nod. The girls took a step back and gripped each other's hands, afraid of the stranger standing before them.

Jenna averted her eyes and headed back to Felix. She knew the feeling of losing family, but at least, those two girls still had each others.

Menardi was just heading back uphill when Jenna arrived.

"Fire burns, but fire also warms," she said offhandedly as she passed Jenna. "You have a long way to go, girl."

Jenna whirled around to stare at the witch, but Menardi didn't even give her a second look. Looking back, Jenna saw Alex still lying on the ground like a dead body, although Felix had covered him with his ragged cloak.

"I didn't even know those freaks buried the dead," said Jenna with a scoff. It was a rude thing to say, but she wanted to talk to her brother and didn't know what else to say to make him speak.

"Menardi was a priestess at one point," said Felix, kneeling behind Alex's head. He gathered the Imilian's thick blue hair in a ponytail in his right hand. "Respect for the dead is a universal trait for most cultures, Jenna."

"Did she tell you to say that?" asked Jenna, snorting.

"_No?_" replied Felix, lifting his head to stare at her with an incredulous look. "I'm not the mindless slave you think I am, and my mentors aren't the savages you believe they are." He lifted a razor and began sawing Alex's hair off.

"That's going to look _terrible_," said Jenna, looking at her brother's shoddy work. She stepped over to her brother and extended an open hand towards him. "Let me do it."

Felix lifted his gaze and simply stared at her.

"If I want to kill him, I don't _need_ a razor," said Jenna.

Felix sighed and finally put the razor in her hands. He strode off to the cart, pulled a bag from the luggage and began rummaging for clothes.

Jenna knelt to the ground and combed most the leaves and twigs out of Alex's hair with her fingers. For a man, he sure had long hair—Jenna wondered how generous she should be with the hair-cut. Shoulder length? Right below the ear? She brushed the sharp razor against Alex's hair, beginning to shed it as Felix returned with a bundle of clothes under his arm.

"I should cut yours too," said Jenna "You seem to need a haircut."

Felix chuckled mildly, dumping the pile of clothes next to Alex. When he lifted the cloak covering the Water Adept, Alex winced and opened his eyes, looking up towards Jenna in a half-awaken state. His lips moved, but no words emerged. Jenna wondered what he could possibly feel about being treated like a dead body being prepared for funeral.

"Move away for awhile," said Felix, and Jenna scooted over to let him prop Alex up to a sitting position and pull a linen shirt over his head. He then swiped his hands around Alex's collar and spilled the rest of his long hair over his shoulders. "There, continue."

Alex began breathing louder when Jenna kept shedding his hair. He let out a half-sob like a wounded child when the locks fell around him like soft blue feathers.

"I don't think he wants a hair-cut," said Jenna, but she didn't stop.

"He _needs_ one," said Felix as he replaced Alex's legwear.

"So do _you_. You look like you're related to the forest trolls."

Felix rigidly dropped the sash he was fastening around Alex's waist and glared back at Jenna. He then grabbed his brown ponytail and pulled it off; his real hair just barely covered his ears.

"There, _happy?_" asked Felix, staring at his sister in irritation.

"You have_ fake hair?_" Jenna almost shouted at her brother. "_Why?_"

"Actually, it's _real_—just not _mine_."

"_Pff!_ Well, you could have just said it. You didn't have to be all dramatic and pull it off."

"_Ugh!_" Felix growled in frustration and put his extensions in his pocket. He picked up a blue jacket and threw it around Alex's shoulders and began slipping his arms through the sleeves. Alex let out a sigh in defeat.

"You're too recognizable," said Felix. "We _need_ to cut it off."

"He could just cover it…" said Jenna.

"Menardi says it has to go."

"I thought you said you _weren't_ a slave?"

"Everyone in Imil will be looking for a man in white and with _long blue hair!_ If cutting his hair bothers you, then why are you doing it?"

"Because you already hacked off half of it! I'm fixing it so he doesn't have to look like a troll like _you_."

"Why do _you_ care what he looks like?"

"I _don't_," said Jenna. "I care about _you!_ _Shk!_"

She winced as the razor grazed her index finger. Felix sighed and briefly closed a healing hand around her fingertip.

"All this trouble to say I'm ugly…" he said, rolling his eyes as he continued buttoning up Alex's jacket. "You're unbelievable."

"_You're_ unbelievable to let yourself look like this! You used to look respectable…"

Felix clenched his teeth and wrenched his hands.

"Will you be quiet if I let you cut my hair?" he asked.

"_Maybe!_" Jenna replied, staring back at her brother with her eyes as wide open as possible.

Felix sighed and turned away without saying another word and Jenna finally dropped the argument too. She combed out the loose strands of Alex's hair, finishing her work.

"There," said Jenna, wiping the blade of the razor against her sleeve before returning it to Felix. "So, can you tell me what happened to him now? The villagers are gone. And who _is_ he, really?"

"He's a member of the clan sworn to protect the Lighthouse of Mercury."

Alex twitched at the sound of that name, but he didn't say anything.

"Oh," said Jenna, letting out a snide laugh. Now she saw why Felix was so protective of this pansy. Birds of a feather flocked together after all. "So what happened to him?"

"He rode westward to create a diversion; I guess the watch almost got him."

Alex slowly began moving his hands around the spaces next to his thighs, still behaving like someone's who'd lost his soul. Felix fetched some water for his friend to drink, but the Water Adept crawled over to the pieces of his shredded coat, pathetically searching for something among the hair and the white fabric.

"What are you looking for?" asked Jenna, but he ignored her. "Hey! _Pansy!_ I'm talking to you!"

"Alex?" said Felix, returning with a bowl of water. He squatted to the weak healer's level, fished out an old wooden flute from under his tunic and showed it to his friend. "It's here."

The Water Adept froze for a second. He then grabbed the flute from Felix's hands, clutching the instrument tightly as if it was his most prized possession. Felix comfortingly patted him on the back and then finally pulled him up to his feet. When the Earth Adept offered him the water, Alex spontaneously broke down in tears and staggered away towards the village on his own. The brother watched him for a moment, but then grabbed the spare blue cloak he forgot to give Alex and hurried after his friend.

Jenna sighed. Felix ran away again. He ran away just the way he did on the Lighthouse. If he hadn't run away, maybe they'd have been with Isaac and Garet now.

She wished for her friends to find her soon. As much as she looked forward to seeing the witch and her underlings struggle for survival while the entire world was after their heads, Jenna had long grown tired of travelling with these savages.

_WOOOOOOOO! WOOOLOOOO!_

Hearing the sound of a horn, Jenna looked back to see Felix giving the signal to leave. The villagers fussed about their carriages and horses. Families counted their members. The witch carried the two orphans back to the caravan, putting them on the same cart Saturos occupied. The blinded thief raised a small drum and tried to cheer the orphans up. Jenna couldn't hear what he said, but it was odd to see him entertaining children. On the other hand, he was completely useless now so that was probably the best he could do.

Felix gestured with sweeping arms toward the people still lingering in the village. It wasn't a big caravan. It wasn't as big as the one they'd joined on the way to Imil, but about thirty people were being uprooted from their homelands for a long trip to Bilibin.

Jenna hurried to the side of the road. Tearing off another strip of cloth from her cape, she fastened the fabric around the trunk of a tree. She didn't know if Isaac and Garet were even following the trail, but she hoped they did.

A horn sounded again. Menardi gestured to the caravan, heading towards the road. The first few carriages and a large group of villagers followed closely behind.

Jenna quickly ran back to the group. She caught Felix sighing in relief when he saw her approaching, but the brother turned away and pretended not to care when she saw her staring back. Felix walked next to the supply cart and Jenna stubbornly marched by his side. It was a sombre journey. Many of the women and children cried when they finally began leaving the village, although an old woman spoke comfortingly about a safe haven in Bilibin.

After a while, Jenna heard Saturos asking the two girls on the cart if they knew the legend of the North Wind.

"No…"

"_Hah_, then I'll tell you the tale of King Boreas, the keeper of the North Wind!"

He began playing the drum. And then, he sang. It was a foreign song Jenna didn't know, but his clear, rousing, melodic voice was hard to ignore. Jenna found a few of the villagers smiling as Alex lifted his flute to initiate the next verse with a trill. Felix absently smiled meekly and began clapping his hands in rhythm, encouraging the rest of the villagers to join in. Obviously, Saturos was a better singer than he was a fisherman or cook. Jenna wondered if he wasn't a better singer than he was a fighter too.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

Jenna is the type of person who will bide her time. She's smart, brave and opportunistic. At this point, she's pretty much realized that Menardi can't do anything about her because of her code of honour or whatnot.

This is also a good point for Felix to realize that letting his sister have her way all the time might not be the best idea, guilt or not. At this point of the story, Jenna starts to appear as a bad person in Felix's eyes since she takes advantage of his team being weakened: Saturos and Alex are incapacitated and Felix can't really fight.

I wanted to make it clear that Felix and Menardi are _outlaws_ and are considered threats to society and people will treat them as such. There are bounties on their heads and people would gladly hand them over to the law. It would take time for the news to spread so not being savagely hunted right after Sol Sanctum is fine. But at this point of the story months have gone by and people would _know_. Now they have to start disguising themselves because Alex—who used to run errands for them because he wasn't a wanted criminal—well, there's a manhunt for him now!

You think I only made it hard for Isaac and Garet? _Hah!_

A lot of times it seems that people make it way too easy for Menardi and Felix's quest when in fact _their_ journey should logically be even harder since the law would be after them.


	12. – Unrest in the North

**K**arst's hunting skill was known to almost everyone in Eyvind's party, but most people had noticed that her crooked leg had placed her at disadvantage in this hunt. She normally tracked and pursued her prey on swift feet, so making traps and waiting for the animal to come to her was something she wasn't used to. Karst used to think it was for people who lacked the strength or skill to pursue the prey, but now she understood why Menardi said it was a good way for her to exercise patience.

No one in the north was allowed to hunt alone. Or at least, if Eyvind was leading the hunt, everyone had to be partnered up. Karst usually went with Eyvind's daughter Aife—she was skilled with the bow and an excellent tracker—they were a good team. Too bad a new hunter decided to come along and Eyvind partnered the idiot up with Karst.

Agatio was not a greenhorn when it came to hunting. In fact, he was a really good tracker. The problem was that his mouth always poured out dumb moral lessons or stupid questions and he _wouldn't shut up_. So Karst ditched him. He was a grown man, so there was nothing to worry about. And if he could swim to the northlands from Kalt Island, he could fend for himself. At this point, he was probably back in the camp complaining to Eyvind.

Karst on the other hand was still stuck in the crevasse of a glacier and hadn't found her way out yet. Oh, she knew the way back and she knew how to get out. It just took ages when you had a lame leg and couldn't climb properly.

She heated the ice with the Psynergy in her palm, carving another pocket in the wall. Looking up towards the twilight, she sighed—Eyvind would send everyone out on a rescue mission if she didn't get back in an hour or so. Taking another deep breath, she resumed scaling the wall. She done more difficult climbs before in the mountains, but it was another story when one of your legs was near useless. Still, she couldn't allow herself to be found in this state by her peers, and especially not by the dumb brute she'd ditched!

She carved another pocket in the ice for better grip. Her fingers had started to feel numb from the cold. It was true that her people were more resistant against ice and wind, but they weren't demigods. Well, they were at some point, but that's ancient history.

She drew a deep breath as the sunlight touched her hand—just a little bit more and she'd be out of her ice prison. There, another step more and she could haul herself up. Once her head was above the ice, she slammed her hands against the slippery surface. Her Psynergy quickly melted new pockets in the ice, allowing her to pull herself up with ease. She gasped for breath as she finally let the flow of her magic subside and lay down on the ground to catch her breath.

Turning her face aside she looked towards the horizon where the sun painted the sky in purples and pink. The twilight was a pleasant sight and she smiled a little, remembering how she scaled the Mars beacon in the midnight sun. Sure, she lost a useful leg in the task, but she couldn't help but smile at the thought of being the only person capable of reaching the top. It's good that Menardi was away on some grand adventure. If she knew what Karst had done to herself she'd go ballistic.

Karst rubbed her forehead and sat up, her smile fading away as fast as it had appeared. Gods, she missed Menardi so much. Yes, Menardi would fly into unstoppable rage if she found out about what happened in the city too.

Standing up and brushing the snow off her furs and wool clothing, Karst began making her way back to the camp. Even though she'd avoided the embarrassment of being rescued, Eyvind would still question how she lost her javelin.

Karst could see the camp from afar. The campfire burned amidst the cold blue snow and smoke rose to the clouded sky. All the tents had been set and the other hunters were probably already having supper without her. She sighed and picked up her pace, dragging her bad leg behind.

Stupid leg.

She was known for being a huntress who didn't contend with small beasts and always sought greater adversaries to test her skill. But she never picked fights she couldn't win. She never failed tracking her prey and always returned with the best trophies. Now it just seemed she arrogantly challenged a monster she couldn't kill and ran away without her spear.

Stupid leg. Stupid injury. Stupid lighthouse.

Of course there was a reason Menardi didn't scale the walls of the Mars Lighthouse. There were traps and loose bricks on the top! If Khalor hadn't gone after her and waited beneath the tower, she'd be dead. If Khalor didn't instantly mend her broken body after the fall, she'd be at the family gathering in the next realm!

She sighed. It's been four months since Menardi's flight from the north, and Karst hadn't heard anything back from her sister ever since.

When Karst arrived at the camp with the sweeping wind in her hair and cloak, Eyvind and the others had already finished dinner. The party leader was busy berating Agatio, telling the stupid brute that no one was allowed to hunt alone.

"I don't care about your excuses," said Eyvind. "Maybe it's different from where you come from, but no one hunts alone here in the north."

"I told her," said Agatio. "She did not listen."

The idiot enunciated every word. Karst wanted to roll her eyes every time he opened his mouth.

"I _don't_ care," said Eyvind, shaking his head with a stern look. "I only have _one_ rule. If you're going to leave your partner in the middle of the hunt, then don't join _my_ hunts."

"But she…" The idiot abruptly cut himself off when he caught a glimpse of Karst's stare. "Nothing..." he then whispered. "You are right, Eyvind. I should not have left her alone."

As Karst quietly tried to sneak past them to her tent, Eyvind called out her name.

"Karst! Don't think you're getting a pass because you're Menardi's sister," said the leader.

Karst chuckled and raised her hands, shrugging her shoulders as she faced Eyvind and replied with a grin:

"_Eyvind_, you know I'm capable of hunting alone. There's nothing to worry about."

Eyvind folded his arms over his broad chest and narrowed his eyes.

"You're a Guardian, Karst," he said. He snorted and his thick grey beard puffed up, making him resemble an overgrown finch. "Set a good example for the rest."

"Fine, _fine_..." replied Karst, raising her hands above her head and rolling her eyes. "Please no lectures, I've had enough of them. I'm _soooorry_."

"Karst, I'm responsible for the party's safety," said Eyvind, emphasising with a gesture. "If you want to go hunting alone with a lame leg, don't join my hunts."

Karst grinned and raised an eyebrow.

"Hm, so you don't care as long as you're off the hook?"

The party leader replied with a sigh and a shake of his head.

Karst laughed out loudly. She strode over to Eyvind and nudged him on the side.

"Oh, _come on_, don't be like that! I love hunting with you and Aife!"

"Normally, I wouldn't worry about you, Karst, but you're not exactly in condition to go on an expedition alone. Now, what took you so long to get back here?"

"Oh, just fell down a glacier," said Karst with a little laugh and a shrug, "nothing serious."

Eyvind stared at her with his eyes wide open and uncomfortable silence spread through the camp. Aife suddenly stopped braiding her platinum hair and her husband Gavin looked up from fletching arrows.

"You did _what_?" said Agatio, suddenly grabbing Karst's right shoulder.

The huntress quickly shook him off and spun around to face him.

"_Hey_, I didn't ask _you_ to follow me!" said Karst. "And I didn't ask for your opinion on the matter either, so don't start another fight!"

The idiot gaped at her and couldn't even come up with a snappy reply. Instead he resorted to old fashioned promises and duty.

"I promised Menardi," said Agatio. "To look after you."

"I don't care what you promised Menardi!" replied Karst, swiping the air with a hand. "I don't need a _babysitter! _If you hadn't insisted to be my partner I would've gone with Aife and actually _caught_ something! I went on this trip to get _away_ from the damn city but you brought it _with_ you!"

Agatio's expression twitched as he sought for words. He raised a finger and pointed at Karst, but before he could reply Eyvind clapped his hands loudly and broke up the fight. He told Agatio to go back to his own business and Karst to eat supper and then sleep.

"We want to get home in time now, don't we?" said Eyvind.

Karst shot Agatio a final glare. He was dumb like a rock. How could Menardi tolerate this idiot? Karst definitely wasn't going to let this moron become her in-law despite what Menardi said about the betrothal—how dumb would you be to cross the Frozen Sea armed with only an empty promise and your mother's old armlet?

She fetched the leftovers and sat down near the campfire to eat in silence. Reaching under her tunic, she took out the silver locket hanging from the long chain around her neck. She opened the lid and a little flame emerged from the locket, taking the shape of a dancing crane.

It wasn't the first time Menardi left her without a word. And it probably wouldn't be the last. Menardi was always away organizing the city's defence or leading raid parties to thin out the monsters. She gave Karst this silver locket many years ago. Back then, Menardi cryptically said it was "her flame". It was a lingering spell and as long as it burned, Karst could rest assured that her sister was alive. Back when she was ten and naïve, she thought as long as she could see the flame, she'd know her sister was safe. But what if Menardi had been captured by the Valian zealots and was being held prisoner? The Valians were not to be trifled with; they wiped out most of Menardi's squad three years ago. Back then, she had a warband. This time, all Menardi had to show for was a priest, a one-armed seer, a blacksmith, and a boy.

When Karst had finished her food, most of the hunters had packed up their things and returned to their tents. Only Gavin and the dumb brute made her company at the fire since they had first watch. Gavin calmly smoked on his pipe with the wind in his crimson hair. He told Agatio the tales of the Ancient Heroes. Karst rolled her eyes as the idiot asked dumb questions about the story of Cybele miraculously mending the wartorn lands with a dance.

"It's a _legend_," Karst told him. "These tales are not meant to be taken as literal truth. They are meant to teach lessons and inspire us to do good. What are you? _Five_?"

"And how do you know that?"

"This might blow your mind, outlander, but even the Ancient Heroes weren't demigods!" said Karst, cleaning off her knife and sheathing it. "They were mortals, just like us. They were that powerful because the Source of Magic supplied them with unlimited energy. I can't believe Menardi actually vouched for you to become a Guardian, you dumb twit."

With those words, Karst went back to her tent and lay down to wait for sleep to find her. As much as she hated the rumours of Menardi having an affair with Rhen, she'd prefer the cranky scholar over the complete idiot. Agatio didn't understand that Menardi was just humouring him—did he honestly think Menardi would honour a stupid promise their parents made long before they had children? _No._ And why would she? She could have any man in the city—why would she ever pick _him?_ The fact that he behaved as if he already was Karst's in-law just made him more insufferable. Why didn't he join the deserters if he loved Menardi so much?

The deserters. Saint Prox save us! Some other Guardians had wanted to join Menardi's cause shortly after Eyvind and his hunters charted the maze of icebergs and reopened the path to the south! Luckily the high priestess detained them before they could cause more trouble.

Karst supported Menardi in all her decisions, but after spending months trying to keep the peace in town, she wondered why her sister didn't completely embrace the role of a traitor. Chief Puelle vindicated her name with the revelation of her true quest despite Nora's and the council's warnings. Like the chief, Karst also had thought the people would be supportive of Menardi's mission, but the high priestess was right; the revelation only caused unrest in the city.

* * *

It was daybreak. Karst rolled up her tent and picked up her rucksack, heading back to the kayaks with the rest of the hunting party. It was cloudy and chilly and the sun peeked at the horizon. Karst sighed and got into her boat. Vacation was over—it was time to go home.

The hunters paddled at a steady pace. Eyvind wanted to get back to town before lunch and Karst saw the city at the horizon after perhaps an hour. They didn't venture very far for this hunt, probably because of all the things that happened in the city.

The city.

The City of Prox was Karst's home. It would always be her home, but ever since Menardi was kicked out from the Order, it had become less pleasant to stick around.

Everyone talked about Menardi in the city. Everyone chased Karst around and asked questions she didn't have answers to. She wasn't in league with Menardi and Rhen—she had no idea of what they planned to do—how hard could it be to understand? And then there was that warmongering Valian who'd been fanning the flames ever since her son joined Menardi's quest.

The City of Prox used to be a merry place in this time of the year, but the annual festival to commemorate the founding of the city had been cancelled. Karst didn't think there would be any celebration of winter solstice either when everyone was worrying about the Gaia Falls and an invading army from Vale.

Menardi's mission sowed dissent in the Order of Prox, and the Order was losing the people's trust. So many questions had been asked, but so little had been answered. The Order was still trying to keep peace, but people were frightened by Menardi's revelation of the Gaia Falls. The hysteria had toned down over four months, but a lot of people had expressed their desires to leave the north.

Four months. It's been four months since Menardi's flight from the north—four months without news from her sister. Several people had screamed doom and gloom on the town square and some even attacked the priests and the Guardians.

Karst believed in her sister's abilities and conviction; Menardi's rise to Captain of the Order wasn't a fluke. She didn't catch the entire temple off guard and beat all the Guardians with sheer luck either.

Menardi was her hero. She'd always be Karst's hero. Karst knew her sister carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. She knew Menardi had a difficult journey to walk. But the lack of news wasn't helping _anyone_. A word would have been nice… A word would at least calm the people who believed she deserted her people to save herself.

"_Karst!_ You're falling behind!"

Hearing Aife shout at her, Karst paddled faster to catch up with the rest of the hunting party. The sun rose behind her as they neared the city. Thunder suddenly boomed in the distance, but there was still no rain.

"Ow!" Gavin yelped, and his cry was followed by the sound of sleet shattering the waves.

"_Ah!_" Aife cried out, raising her arms to shield herself as iceballs began falling instead of small pellets.

"_Hail!_" said Eyvind, drawing a wide circle above the air with his paddle and deflecting the clumps of ice with a shield of red energy. "_To me!_"

Karst paddled over to Eyvind's boat and the party gathered around their leader, taking shelter under his barrier. Gavin laughed and said Agatio needed to work on his ability to forecast the weather, but Eyvind rolled his eyes.

As the ice clumps shattered against the magic shield, Karst gazed back towards the city where the flaming beacons in the watchtowers stood lit and smoked against the pink sky. Her eyes grew tall and she took a deep breath when a Psynergy barrier extended from the towers to encase the city in a dome of light. She's seen the warning beacons lit before, but the ward hadn't been used ever since her people withdrew from the rest of the world.

The crushing sound against Eyvind's shield ended as the hail finally stopped. The hunters sat in their narrow boats, holding their paddles and staring back at the veiled city in astonishment and horror.

"What is wrong?" asked Agatio, earning incredulous looks from everyone in the party as if he'd asked the most inconsiderate question in the world.

Karst quickly lifted her paddle but Eyvind extended his arm towards her, palm facing down. He said nothing, but he slowly shook his head. Minutes passed like years and the barrier covering the city flashed brightly in the sun, deflecting projectiles in the distance. Karst clutched her paddle tightly, her impatience growing worse for each passing moment. She remembered the Valian woman's many threats. Could Menardi possibly have failed her mission? If the city-wide ward had been raised, then it could only mean that war had arrived.

"_Father!_" said Aife, but Eyvind grabbed her paddle and kept her kayak close. She shrieked that her mother was still in the city, but Eyvind's lips were sealed; only his eyes twitched in silence.

Seeing that Eyvind was distracted, Karst slipped away from the group. If those Valian zealots truly had launched a siege on the City of Prox, she wouldn't sit here in safety and wait the battle out. But then another boat suddenly crashed into hers, knocking it off course.

"Out of my way!" said Karst.

"Eyvind said stay," replied Agatio, grabbing her paddle.

Karst thrust the paddle towards him, pushing the idiot and his kayak over, but two other hunters flanked her boat and prevented her leave.

"You're not going anywhere, Karst!"

"There's a battle! They need me!"

"The city is _sealed off_. You can't get in even if we go back!"

"Then what should I do? Sit here like a _coward?_"

"It will not be for any help throwing your life away," said Agatio, clambering to his upside-down boat.

"That's not _your_ city, of course _you_ can talk!" Karst retorted. "You want to be a coward? Then why did you even join the Order? Why don't you _swim back to Kalt Island? Gavin!_ Let me go! It's my responsibility to—"

"_We_ are your responsibility," Gavin replied. "What can you hope to accomplish if it's truly a battlefield there? We'll all be killed instantly if the enemy is outside the city!"

"We can't just sit here!"

"Father!" said Aife. "_Look!_ The shield!"

The ward flashed and then faded away, once again exposing the city for view, though the warning beacons still burned. The hunters landed their boats at the shore to the east and Eyvind ordered the party to wait in hiding near the wall while he and Karst scouted ahead.

Shards of ice covered the bridges at the port and there were cave-ins where the planks had been broken by ice clumps with the size of boulders. Fearing that warmages had indeed attacked the city, Eyvind drew his long knife and gave it to Karst, ordering her to stick close to him—he kept forgetting she no longer was the little girl he watched growing up next door. They quietly approached the silent homes at the docks and Karst peeked through a window while Eyvind strung his bow. The fisherman's family cowered under their furniture inside and Karst couldn't help but wonder if it truly was safe.

As they snuck closer to the main street, Karst heard moans and cries from the injured citizens. Large ice-shards were strewn all over the street and many buildings had been damaged. A young priest with a loose dark braid for hair was tending to a wounded man and a Guardian knelt next to a scared old lady and two children, trying to comfort them. Further down the road, even more Guardians arrived to inspect the damages.

Eyvind let out a sigh and stuck his arrow back in his quiver. He petted Karst's shoulder comfortingly.

"I'll get the others," he told her before making his way back to Aife and the other hunters.

The priest briefly looked aside to Karst with his kind hazel eyes, but his pale aura didn't fade as he finished mending his patient. Khalor released the injured man's hand, giving him a reassuring smile. It was then a red-haired woman suddenly appeared behind the corner and shoved Khalor to the streets.

"Get your hands off my husband!" said the warmonger, but her man just stared at her in astonishment. He then clumsily reached a hand out towards Khalor, who shakily turned back to see who the assailant was.

"This is what retribution looks like!" hissed the woman. She then turned to Karst, rolling her eyes and waving her hands above her head. "Oh joy, the little witch is back."

Karst hated this woman with every inch of her being. She hated the look in her dirt brown eyes and she hated the way she wore her claret hair. And she hated how she had stolen Menardi's property and still acted as if everyone owed her something. This woman—Menardi and Rhen fished her up from the river when her family was washed downstream in a storm, but all she'd been doing was causing trouble in the city ever since she woke up here in the north. If Menardi and Rhen hadn't brought her back here, they'd all be dead! She seemed to think the Valians were all powerful, but in the end it was the Order of Prox that saved her pitiful life. Her husband Ralf was a far more reasonable person, but he was so henpecked that it wasn't even funny.

"Hannah, don't punish this young man for what his brother did," said Ralf. "He's innocent…"

"And our Felix _isn't__?_" asked Hannah, staring at her husband in disbelief. "Why do you keep taking their side? Doesn't our son mean anything to you?"

"Hannah… Just... just help me back to the temple. Let's leave—"

"_Leave?_ I wish to leave too, but they are keeping us here!" She looked Khalor again. "The hailstorm is proof that the Saints have answered my prayers! You lowlifes will cower like animals when the Valian army comes for you!"

"There is _no_ army!" Ralf tried to shout, but his voice got stuck in his throat and he started coughing. It seemed like he was still sick. "_These_ people have nothing to do with the landslide…"

"They allowed it!" said Hannah. "And they are keeping us prisoners in foreign lands with Kyle's life as ransom!"

"Kyle wanted to stay! I heard him myself when Rhen—"

"The telepath was one of the scoundrels who raided our village! He manipulated your mind to make you hear what he wants you to hear!"

Karst looked aside to see Khalor sitting on the road, his head hanging low and his dark hair veiling his hazel eyes. He then quickly rose up and ran away towards the docks and the cruel woman grinned like the wicked witch she was.

"Thieves, bandits, witches—you use all these words," said Agatio as he approached the scene. "But do you even know what they mean?"

"I don't need _you_ to teach me the definitions, barbarian," snapped Hannah. She put her hands to her sides and spitefully chimed with a smug grin: "You pillaged our village! What should I call you if not _thieves_? I'm being held prisoner in foreign lands. What should I call you if not bandits?"

"My sister saved your lives, you ingrate!" said Karst, finally opening her mouth.

"You saved us after you tried killing us all with a landslide? How noble." Hannah scoffed at Karst. "You just want to use us as tools in your godforsaken crusade… Even your own people have condemned you. You're nothing but thieves. I hope the templars killed _every last_ of your little raiding party in Vale."

"_You bitch—!_" Karst almost leapt at the woman's throat with Eyvind's knife but Agatio grabbed her and pointed at the Order members around the area; the Valians were under the council's protection—she could yell as much she wanted but if she touched the woman physically she'll be kicked out of the Order.

Karst clutched the hunting knife tightly for a moment, but then finally allowed Agatio to take the weapon. She wrenched herself free from his grasp and rigidly raised her hand towards the unmoving Valian, but only to stop and point at her arrogant face.

"If your army of mages comes here," said Karst, "we'll capture every last one of you animals and throw you on a boat set to the Falls."

"_There is no army!_" yelled Ralf.

"Karst!" Agatio pointed at the Orders members staring at the scene.

Karst followed the idiot's gaze. She held her breath for a moment, but decided it wasn't worth losing her place in the Order of Prox over this woman. Instead, she spun around and left to look for Khalor.

Prisoners; the ingrate called herself a prisoner when she brought this upon herself! The council only kept them here because _she_ was deemed a threat to their civilization!

Reaching the bridge, she found Khalor standing on the ruined bridge with his face in his hands.

"Ugh, look at your face…" said Karst, groaning and rolling her eyes as he approached her friend. "Why would you give in to her stupid insults? Is it the first time she'd insulted Menardi and Rhen?"

"Rhen is dead," replied Khalor.

Karst was taken aback for a moment and she stared at her friend in confusion. Khalor shakily lowered his hands from his face. His fingers twitched and he didn't seem to know what to do with his hands.

"Wh-what?" Karst then said with a shaky, broken laugh. "You're kidding, right?"

Khalor took a deep breath and covered his nose with his hands once more.

"Rhen is dead," he repeated. He then wiped his sticky fingers on the side of his robes. "M-my brother... my brother is dead."

Karst gave him a shaky smile—Was he serious? Rhen? Dead? _Rhen_, who could see the future and foretell disasters, was _dead?_

The friend stuck his right hand into his pocket, retrieving something, and then slowly lifted his closed hand towards Karst.

"The fishermen found the remains of a funeral raft this morning," said Khalor, finally opening his hand to show her a bronze ring. "They brought back this…"

Karst stared at the ring and instantly recognized it—Rhen always wore it on the thumb of his left hand. As Khalor angrily chucked it out towards the sea, she could only stare at her friend, not knowing what to say. She silently looked down to the water to see Khalor's pained expression reflected on the surface. She reached out a hand towards his shoulder when hundreds of ripples suddenly broke their reflections. Looking up, small pebbles of ice fell from the sky and were quickly followed by huge hailstones.

Karst pulled the mender aside, but she tripped when she took a wrong step with her bad leg and fell. The priest quickly swept a wide circle in the air and summoned a powerful misty shield of energy and frost. The hailstones crashed against the rooftops and destroyed more property. Horns sounded in the distance as Karst stood up. Beams of light surged from the tops of the watchtowers and the city-wide ward was reinstated.

As Khalor quenched his spell, he grabbed the warhorn from his belt and blew it as he ran back towards the city with Karst following closely behind.

On the plaza the citizens were shouting at each others' throats. Had the Valian army arrived? Was there a war? No one seemed to know for sure, but it seemed like warmages were laying siege on the city with magic missiles. Most people were prepared to pick up a spear or axe and fight for the city, but there hadn't been a need for that for centuries. The monsters didn't pose much of a threat and the Guardians dealt with them as soon they were sighted from the watchtowers.

Karst volunteered to sneak past the wall and scout the borders, but Captain Tenel told her a scouting team had already been dispatched long ago. Instead, she was sent to her post in the eastern watchtower to help the priests keep the ward up with her Psynergy.

* * *

The hailstorm continued for what seemed like forever. When it finally stopped at late evening, a blizzard swept in from north-east and hid everything beyond the wall in a shroud of frost and snow. Once Karst's shift was over at the watchtower, she questioned her superiors about the scouts that were dispatched, but there were no news.

She dragged her feet back to the temple. The streets were clear, save for the Guardians on patrol. People had been told to stay indoors and not come out unless necessary. At the Temple of Prox, Karst saw a Guardian standing outside the building and trying to reassure a middle aged couple who asked whether the city was under siege or not. She passed them without a word and headed towards the gate. Karst had heard from her temple brothers that the Valian bitch didn't cause further trouble, but all her fearmongering had started to bear fruit.

Pushing the doors open, Karst entered the chapel. It was crowded with people. Most seemed to be here to pray or ask questions, but on the benches to the right were people getting treatment for their injuries—apparently there was no more room in the ward. The menders and healers couldn't seem to catch a break and High Priestess Nora was nowhere found. Some said she left the city without reason and Captain Tenel had gone looking for her beyond the wall.

"Where's Khalor?" said Karst as she approached one of the priest treating injuries in the chapel.

"He's downstairs with Ralf," replied Priest Joran, running a hand over his face with a frown as he finished healing the wounded.

"Is the warmonger here?" asked Karst, instantly flying to attention at the mention of the Valian's name.

"No. She hasn't shown up after that fight with Ralf."

"Thank the Saints…"

She headed downstairs to the cold chambers underground where the priests tended to the dead. Karst clutched the silver locket, wondering what Menardi would do in her place.

Khalor was washing a dead body and preparing it for funeral in the dim candlelight while Ralf sat in a chair near the small shrine. The Valian lost the function of his legs in the storm of Vale. He couldn't remember exactly how, but he remembered rolling down the mountains and crashing into trees and rocks.

"He was a talented healer and a beautiful child," said Ralf, seemingly talking about his son—the boy Menardi allegedly kidnapped in the middle of the night. "But he was oh so foolish…" He whispered faintly and it sounded like he was crying.

Khalor didn't reply and pulled a shroud over the dead body. He then went to the small shrine and cast a spell to purge himself before heading back to the pitiful cripple. He said nothing and just offered Ralf a hand, whereupon the man grabbed him and pulled him down into his embrace.

"I'm sorry…" said Ralf, his voice quivering as he spoke. "I'm so sorry for your loss…"

Ralf was a good person. Karst never knew his precious child, but she'd never found a reason to question Ralf's morals. He'd always treated everyone with respect and every time he answered the door when Karst brought him supplies from the temple, he would look her in the eyes and apologize—every time.

The few times Ralf ever spoke to Karst, he said he understood that she hated them, since Hannah had forced Menardi and Karst out of their homes and was unnecessarily making their lives difficult. He constantly assured people that Vale had no army of mages. Sure, the priests and the templars were all powerful Adepts, he said, but the majority of the village were ordinary people who didn't even bear arms—there was no way they could hope to conquer another city of Adepts. Sometimes, he mentioned a daughter he couldn't save, saying she'd be Karst's age if she still was alive…

Not wanting to ruin the moment, Karst turned away to leave silently, but then she heard heavy steps on the stairs. Khalor jumped in surprise and then ran out to the corridor. The friend stared at her for a moment with a questioning look, but then looked to the priests carrying another body down to the hall of the departed.

"Who is it?" asked Khalor with a sigh.

"Maiken," replied the priests carrying the stretcher with the shrouded body. "Your step-sister."

A faint yellow light shone from the morgue and looking back Karst saw Ralf falling to the floor—he wasn't a particularly good Adept. The other priests just shook their heads and ignored him when he fumbled after his walking stick. Khalor silently went back, pulled the cripple onto his back and carried him out of the room. He stopped to stare at Karst for a moment, but he didn't say a single word. Then, Joran appeared on top of the staircase and suddenly called them both upstairs, saying that a mender was needed.

They went back upstairs, following Joran to the ward. Five Guardians moaned in pain on the cots as three healers tended to their wounds and Khalor and Karst were quickly directed to the one in worst condition. The mender set Ralf down next against the wall and then hurried over to the wounded. The scout was delirious and unable to answer questions. Khalor peeled off the patient's armour and opened his garments with swift hands and a sharp knife. The wound was… strange. Deep jagged cuts formed a long gash on his chest and his flesh showed signs of frostbite. What could have caused this?

"Purge it," said Khalor.

Karst focused her mind and drew upon her Psynergy, letting her cleansing flames purge the wound. Fresh blood began leaking from the gashes and the mender quickly covered the wound with his hands. He shone like a star as he used Psynergy to repair the flesh and bone. Only a faint scar was left on the skin when Khalor was finished.

Mending. Healing. Most people used the terms interchangeably, but they meant different things. Using Psynergy to force the body to heal itself quickly—that's healing and anyone can learn that. Menders however guided the restoration process and recreated lost tissues with their own Psynergy. They could mend wounds that would otherwise have been fatal. Skilled menders could change dying men's fate. And Khalor definitely pulled Karst from the jaws of death at the base of the Mars Lighthouse.

They continued treating the wounded into deep night. When the patients had been put to rest on the beds, Joran began anxiously pacing back and forth in the ward. He didn't like being in charge of the temple and repeatedly wondered loudly when Nora or Tenel would return.

Karst pulled Khalor aside and asked him what happened here, but Joran heard the question and answered before the friend could:

"Nora's been away for almost two days."

"What? Why?" asked Karst.

"Beats me. Last time we saw Nora she wouldn't shut up about whatever new star she saw, and the next morning she was gone," spat Joran. "You'd know if you were here," he then added. Karst looked away and towards Khalor, but the priest averted his eyes and rubbed the side of his arm.

"It's a mess," said Joran. "The hail has been going on for two days and nights. Chief Puelle was babbling about Elemental imbalance or something before he took a group of Guardians to scout and investigate the hailstorm."

"Where is he now?" asked Karst.

"The Chief? Who knows? He left as soon I mended him!"

Karst gaped. She left the city for three days and all this crap happened! Rhen had been found dead. The city-wide ward had been raised. Hailstones large as boulders falling from the sky. Three of the society's leaders had gone missing and everyone thought the city was under siege. What more had she missed?

She carried Ralf back to the priests' living quarters since Khalor was weakened from using so much Psynergy. He directed her to his room,

"Stay here for tonight," said Khalor. "I'm probably not going to use the bed tonight."

Karst had barely placed Ralf down on his bed when Joran suddenly called the mender back to the chapel—apparently more wounded people had come. Khalor sighed and looked at her and then at Ralf. She nodded to the friend, who then left the room and headed back to the chapel. Meanwhile, Karst lit the candles in the room with her mind and then asked Ralf if there was something else he needed help with. The Valian silently shook his head, but when Karst began to leave, he suddenly spoke:

"You can still have your leg fixed you know?"

Karst stopped in the doorway and her hand absently wandered to grasp her crooked leg. A frown dawned on her face, but she didn't turn back to show it to Ralf.

"I have to let the menders _shatter_ my leg to fix it," she said, trying not to sound bitter. "Even Nora said there's a good chance I'll end up way worse than before. I'm not taking that risk."

"I'm sorry," said Ralf.

"For what?" asked Karst, looking back over her shoulder. "_You_ didn't break my leg."

Ralf looked away.

"Could you take me to Kyle?" he then asked.

Karst sighed.

Karst sighed, turning back to the cripple. Compared to his friend Kyle, Ralf really lucked out.

"He's not going to get better just because you're there," she said. "The best menders and healers in the world are taking care of him. Worry about regaining the use of your legs instead."

"Please."

"It's late. He's probably asleep."

"Please."

Karst looked at the Valian. Compared to his wife, he was a saint. How could he be married to that harpy of a woman?

"All right…"

Pitying him, Karst carried Ralf upstairs to the room where his friend had been for the last three years. She lit the candles on the table with a quick glance and then brought Ralf into the room, setting him down on an armchair next to the bed, where his friend lay still awake. The walls were covered with old tapestries and paintings. Ralf had requested the decorations since he wanted Kyle to always have something to look at.

"Kyle," said Ralf, clasping his friend's right hand.

Kyle blinked in response, his face completely expressionless. He was completely paralyzed—without the use of Psynergy, all he could do was move his eyes and blink.

"A lot has happened today," Ralf continued, and then began telling Kyle _everything_. He spoke to Kyle like this every day, reporting the smallest thing to his friend.

Kyle's aura of Psynergy glowed and his body shifted awkwardly around to a sitting position, moving like a marionette. He lifted his hand to place it on Ralf's shoulder in a reassuring gesture, but his face was blank. He was a powerful mage, so he _could_ get around on his own if he wanted to, but extensive use of Psynergy wore on his mind so he mostly stayed in his room or at least within the temple. The menders still hadn't found a cure to his condition and hope was bleak. Karst could understand that he preferred letting his family think he was dead—she'd rather die than switch places with him.

She grabbed a blanket from the drawers in the room, giving it to Ralf. She then left the Valians and headed back downstairs and out to the chapel. Khalor was sitting there alone on a bench. He wasn't praying.

Karst cast a look out of the window. The blizzard howled in the night and the east beacon's flame still burned.

"I've seen bad weather but this is insane," said Karst just to break the silence.

"Or maybe it _is_ divine retribution…" replied Khalor glumly.

Karst's gaze flew to her friend's avoiding look.

"Since when did you start believing that warmongering bitch's words?" she said, folding her arms over her chest.

Khalor didn't reply and refused to look at her.

Karst sighed. It didn't matter where she went. As long as she was in the city, it was all doom and gloom.

"Are you hungry?" she then asked, sitting down next to the mender.

Khalor shook his head.

"Where's Ralf?" he asked.

"With the marionette," replied Karst without thinking. When the mender rigidly turned away from her she couldn't help but quip: "What's wrong with you? I know you're tired but—"

Khalor's eyes flashed briefly and he stared at her in disbelief.

"I'm sorry but I found out my brother died not long ago," he said, failing miserably to hide the quiver in his voice. "I-I know y-you never really liked Rhen, but you can at least… at least let me grieve alone if—"

Her arms closed around Khalor's neck as the words punctured her like a sharp knife in the gut. But before she could apologize the friend whispered:

"I'm fine… I-I just need to—"

"You're not fine," said Karst, her vision blurring as she squeezed the mender tighter and felt the silver locket press against her chest. She gripped the back of Khalor's robes and tabard, staring at the red cloth covering his shoulders.

Khalor had a brotherhood in the Order of Prox, but they would never replace the brother who raised him since he was a child.

Rhen would never come back. He was dead. He was gone forever. He's passed on to the next realm. The Guardians wounded him so badly that he succumbed to his wounds at sea.

She would never need to hear Rhen complain about her pranks again. She would never have to listen to Khalor complaining about his brother setting him up on blind dates because he was old enough to take a wife. And Khalor would never hear his brother's overbearing life advice again. He would have to live on without Rhen's guidance. He would have to face this war without Rhen.

And when it was all over, Rhen wouldn't be there to give him the proud and approving smile he'd always wanted.

"Rhen's in the Hall of Heroes, isn't he?" said Khalor, sobbing bitterly against her shoulder. "Tell me he's in the Hall of Heroes, Karst. Just tell me it's true. I'll believe it if you tell me it is so."

Heroes who fall in battle would feast with the gods and the Ancient Heroes in the next world—so it was told. Those who honour the legacy of the Saints would have a place in the Hall of Heroes too—so it was believed.

Karst swallowed a lump in her throat and closed her eyes. The silver locket weighted heavy around her neck as she nodded without saying a word.


	13. – Desperate Hours

**O**ld Psynergy manuals had documented the Elemental Spirits—the Djinn. No one knew where they came from or what motivations they had, but the scholars of ancient times wrote down how they sought out the most powerful Adepts as hosts. They were deceptive by nature, comparable to the faeries of the wild; they took on harmless appearances, but were really demons preying on innocent souls.

The Saints rounded them up and imprisoned them in Sol Sanctum along with the Elemental Stars, obviously for the greater good. But when the relics were removed from the temple's vault, the Djinn were released from their prison.

And in return, they approached their saviour outside the village, offering gifts.

Like fae, they took innocent appearances, shapeshifting into the form of tiny familiars. They sounded like children, playful and mischievous ones.

"O hero, won't you please take us with you on your journey?" they said.

"_Uuhuhuuu! _Our family was split when the volcano erupted…" they cried. "Won't you help gather our friends as you travel?"

"The world has changed. We no longer sense the Source of Magic! You Adepts, you're our only hope—our final ties to the world!"

Isaac, the idiot, had always had a thing for small animals—he raised an armful of baby chickens as a child. He was enchanted by their sweet appearances, like a child being charmed by his new pet. Garet had to outright tell him they were the Djinn and that they shouldn't touch the things the Saints sealed away for good reason.

"_Buuut_… we served your ancestors as familiars!" The spirits chirped with high voices, sweeping around in weightless flight and drawing tails of light in the air.

"We'll prove our worth to you!" they said, perching on Isaac's shoulders. "We might look small and weak alone, but if you gather up many of us our powers will combine! We will bring you victory in any battle—no one will be your match!"

"And what's the catch?" asked Garet.

"There is no catch," replied the Djinn gleefully. "Your Psynergy will grow stronger, and your Adept skills will also improve with our help. Our knowledge of magic is great and it will all be yours! _Eeheehee_… So, what do you think? What do you think? Take us, will you? Please? _Pleeeease?_"

It didn't matter that Garet swatted at the creatures and shouted curses to the air. The Djinn preyed on Isaac's insecurities and unfulfilled wishes, enthralling him with their promises. They whispered to him the faults of the Valian Order into his ears. They encircled him, telling him they would transform him into the almighty Adept he'd always wanted to be—they would make him stronger than his father and Felix. They told him they would not only help him win back his honour, but also bring him fame and glory—his name would go down in history and all future generations would remember his deeds. And when Isaac still hesitated, they assured him it was in their interest to keep him safe and sound since he would become their connection to the world.

At the time, Garet had faulted Isaac's shortcomings. He was such a weak-minded fool, he said. He'd walk the road many warmages had gone down before him, he'd coldly told Isaac. And he regretted breaching the gates of Sol Sanctum even more.

They encountered more spirits on the road to the north. The Djinn could sense they where Adepts. The little demons repeatedly approached him with their offers, but Garet never accepted any of their deals. He couldn't even see any change in Isaac's abilities and it all seemed like a ruse. He had even fired spells at the Elementals and told them to leave him and his friends alone, swearing he'd find a way to exorcise them somehow. But the spirits had laughed at his attempts of violence and faded away into the shadows. And there they remained, waiting for an opportunity to make the offer Garet couldn't refuse. Finally, on top of the Mercury beacon, they found their long waited chance.

When Isaac ran him through with a blade, the Djinn appeared to him in a dream. Garet remembered standing on marble floor with light rain falling from cloudy skies. He wandered aimlessly with his footsteps splashing in the rain, until finally encountering a mirror image of himself beckoning with a sword of light.

"Let us aid you," said the double. "We can turn the tide. We Djinn can help you seize victory."

Just the mention of the Djinn made Garet tense up with anger and hate; the demons had tailed him through the woods and across the mountains. But when he raised a fist to throw a punch at the doppelgänger, it shattered into sparks of light. They then merged together in another illusion, except this time they took the form of a young man with dark gentle eyes and rosy cheeks.

Dark brown hair pooled from the top of his head, knitting up in a loose braid thrown over his left shoulder. Long blue robes draped over his body and he cradled the temple's banner with beautiful slender hands.

Felix.

Garet froze up in shock for half a second. Then, he let out a desperate cry and punched at the illusion, calling out a spellword to incinerate the demons who dared wearing his best friend's face. But his Psynergy didn't respond no matter how hard he tried to will the flames forth. Even after shattering the illusion with his fist, fake Felix just reformed before him in matter of seconds.

"Why?" Garet let out a gasp and backed away as fake Felix stepped closer to him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because we need you," replied the spirits. They wore Felix's face, but they still spoke with Garet's voice. "And you need us, Adept. You cannot hope for victory without our help."

"I don't want your help!" said Garet. "Leave me alone!"

"Are you certain?" asked the spirits, and they changed their form again, this time taking Isaac's appearance. "You are bleeding out in the physical realm—dying by a trusted friend's blade." They briefly took Jenna's appearance and then changed back to Felix. "You know deep down that Felix is a prisoner too. You love Felix, Jenna and Isaac as much as you love the rest of your family. Don't you want to save them?"

Fake Felix extended an open hand towards him. A wave of sparkles rolled from his palm and a sword of light once again materialized on his hand.

"For all we know, Isaac might be dying now too," said the Djinn. "You know how he is…"

"I'm not signing a deal with you!" said Garet, but his determination wavered at the thought of Isaac following his bloody fate.

Why? Why would the Spirits pick _him_? If they wanted a powerful host, then why didn't they try snaring _Saturos_ in a demonic pact?

How could he ever hope to win? The spirit could just amplify his existing power, but for what use would it be if he couldn't even land a single hit on Saturos? Isaac, in his greed, took several Djinn as servants and his abilities were as much as unchanged!

"What we offer you is far beyond a little improvement in your flame," said the Elementals, "the circumstances calls for us to help you to channel the legendary heroes themselves."

"What?"

"We have fought many battles and seen all kinds of magics. We have witnessed the wars of Alchemy. And we can show you how the Ancients did battle."

Garet snorted and couldn't help but grin stupidly and shake his head. So they really were trying to kill him, these demons?

"I know how the Ancient Heroes fought! And I know that no one in the world can possibly perform their feats anymore! Alchemy is sealed away and magic is drawn from our own energy! Those spells will kill me before I can successfully cast them."

"On your own you cannot," said the Djinn, "but with _us_, you can. We _are_ magic. Say the word and will gather our energies to channel the might of Commander Mars, the Kirin Riders, or whoever you wish to imitate. Say the word, and the might of the Ancients is yours."

Garet stared back at fake Felix. He didn't know what to believe. Could the Spirits truly help him win the fight and save Isaac? The Spirits smiled—it almost looked like Felix's gentle smile. Garet mind wandered and his gaze sunk into the kind look of his best friend. Felix closed the distance and lifted the sword he balanced across his palm, beckoning with a nod and a reassuring smile. And without thinking, Garet reached out and wrapped his hand around the grip of the sword. Felix's eyes flashed and he suddenly donned a triumphant grin.

"No, _wait!_" said Garet, but it was already too late. A strong light emerged from Felix's sword and seared the entire world bright white.

"We will serve you well, Master," said the Elementals before ending the dream.

* * *

He opened a bottle of ink in the middle of the night, placing it on the desk in the room that was Justin's master's study. It was a nice and neatly kept room and it smelt of parchment and herbs. Bundles of dried heather and wildflowers hung from the walls, filling the room with pleasant odour. Several glass jars with dried leaves and insect cocoons sat on the shelf above the desk; the jars seemed to have housed caterpillars once.

Garet had yet to tell Justin about what happened at the Lighthouse, but he didn't feel it was right for him to meddle in his temple's business. Mia was the high priestess and if she didn't tell Justin, she probably had her reasons not to.

He picked one of the old quills from the shelf and sharpened it with the little knife on the desk. Dipping it in the ink, he began writing the letter to Vale:

_High Priest Harald,_

He rested his quill and thought for a while. This wasn't just a letter but also a report on his and Isaac's situation...

_When you receive this letter, I've presumably left the City of Imil._

Hm, what next? He needed to tell Harald about the situation in Imil and the Lighthouse of Mercury, but how could he break the news in the best way? Garet's heart sank. He had failed Harald. He had failed the Temple of Vale; he had failed the Wise One and the Saints.

_I've failed you, High Priest. I've failed my ancestors and the Saints._

Again, his quill faltered. There were so much information he needed to relay and he didn't know how to put it into words. Felix. The Lighthouse. The unrest in Imil. And then there was Isaac's condition... He reread what he'd written and felt like rewriting everything all over, but ink and parchment wasn't cheap.

_Felix lit the Mercury Lighthouse. We arrived too late to stop him. The situation in Imil's City is bad. The temple is undermanned and its leader has unceremoniously left the town. She's been away for two days and the townsfolk are demanding answers. I've done my best to protect her apprentice, but I don't know how to proceed from here. Her apprentice is a child, and he's not capable of dealing with the situation._

_The clan that guards the Lighthouse is in shambles. The matriarch ran off to chase down a treacherous priest who betrayed the Saints the same way Felix betrayed us. He opened the gate to the Lighthouse and let Felix in._

He dipped the tip of the quill in ink again, but thought for a moment before putting more words into the parchment.

_I haven't found out much about Felix's motives. All I know is that he truly wants to fire the beacons. I couldn't confront him. He left before I could get to him and left one of his lieutenants to fight me. _

_Felix has at least another warlock on his side. I won the fight, but barely. Felix's ally is skilled with magic. He is aware of the strengths of weaknesses of Psynergy; he's not a common rogue mage. He carried an enchanted sword, which I'm bringing back to the temple for further examination._

_High Priest, there is something I must confess. I believe I've seen Felix's lieutenant before the raid of Sol Sanctum. He might be the stranger who aided me in the tempest three years ago._

He stopped writing and his fingers squeezed the tip of the quill too tight.

_Tik!_

In a moment of frustration, Garet threw the quill on the desk, and it left an ugly dark stain on the wood. He tore up the letter.

It made no sense. It made no sense whatsoever.

His hand then fumbled and grabbed the sword leaning against the side of the chair. With weary arms, Garet lifted it to the desk again. He gently drew the blade from its scabbard and small flames licked the guard when the sword left its housing. He studied the inscription that sealed the enchantment of the blade; Ancient runes. Every temple issued blade carried an enchantment sealed with an inscription in Ancient runes. It was a tradition the Valian swordsmiths held onto since times immemorial and Stefan's father was no different when he supplied the templars with weapons.

Garet wasn't a swordsmith, but he knew a good sword when he was holding one. The sword was masterwork craftsmanship, no doubt—high quality steel that rivalled what Vale's crucibles could produce. It was a work of art as well; the blade had beautiful pattern welding and the hilt was etched and had a seashell-shaped pommel.

But it wasn't a templar's blade.

Every templar personalized his sword to some extent—different balance, different enchantments and some variation on the grip to make it fit the wielder's hands. But there were rules; save for the runes no decor was allowed, symbolizing the templars' unity and devotion. And most importantly, every sword had the same round pommel etched with the_ temple's seal_. No, _this_ sword... with its etched guard and wide blade seemed like a lost treasure from the past; its shape and aesthetic reminded him of the swords his ancestors wielded centuries ago.

True, this blade could have been stolen from Vale's treasury. But it was quite clear to Garet that Saturos wasn't _any_ brigand mage. He knew combat Psynergy; he didn't rely on a magic sword to win him battles. Moreover, if he was an immoral lowlife, he _wouldn't_ have walked away or agreed to let Isaac come with him. The question was why he even bothered taking prisoners when he was clearly stronger than all of them combined. But then, he could have wanted to ask for the Mars Star's fate. Ivan, being a child would've been the easiest to coax information from, but of course, Saturos didn't know Ivan wasn't even from Vale.

He pressed his fingers against the runes and again they glowed in response to his Psynergy. He remembered how brilliantly the warrior controlled his sword and how the blade soared to his hand like a magical familiar...

He remembered another warrior doing the same theatrics once upon a time. And he even remembered this sword. He'd held it before. He clutched the scabbard and rubbed at the pattern on the leather-clad wood. Three years ago, in a stormy night, he was tasked by a cloaked stranger to fetch this blade.

The nameless hero of the storm owned this blade—or a blade similar to it. Could Saturos have been the hooded stranger who tried aiding Garet that night? Could the temple robber possibly have been the stranger Garet crashed into on the plaza that fateful night?

Garet remembered being scared and confused at the time. A templar burst into his family's home, telling everyone to hurry to the plaza; no questions allowed.

The rain poured and the wind blew relentlessly as the templars ushered the villagers eastward. Garet didn't remember everything that happened, but he remembered being pushed around by frightened people. He remembered looking towards the mountains when lightning struck. He remembered feeling the earth shift beneath his feet. He remembered hearing large trees being snapped in halves and roofs being torn asunder by the roaring wind. He remembered someone telling him an oncoming landslide might destroy the village. And he remembered panic breaking out and watching Felix and Jenna falling into the river amidst the chaos on the bridge.

The siblings were washed downstream. It happened so quickly; so quickly that a majority of the villagers just crossed the bridge and didn't even hear the children scream.

But Captain Kyle did. He and Felix's mother jumped into the water in attempt to save Felix and Jenna. It went so fast that almost no one even noticed them jumping.

People pushed each others to get themselves to safety. Garet tripped and was nearly trampled. His father pulled him up and dragged him away to the plaza. There, he was told to stay put outside the inn whilst his father looked for the rest of the family. But Garet couldn't stop thinking of Felix and Jenna. He couldn't stop worrying about Isaac and Felix's father who'd tripped downstream along the riverbank, screaming for help.

Garet remembered looking for help. He wandered aimlessly, crying for someone to help Felix and Jenna. But no one paid attention to him. No one save for a cloaked stranger tending to an old woman outside the tavern.

He remembered telling the stranger how his friends had fallen into the river in chaos and how no one wanted to help.

"I'll help," said the stranger almost immediately. He then asked Garet to fetch his sword in the inn while he secured the old woman to a healer.

Garet remembered rushing into the dimly lit tavern, looking for a sword. He remembered finding the blade resting on a table in the middle of the common room and instantly grabbing the sword's grip. Flames burst from the hilt and he let go in fright. A few seconds later the blade glowed and sheathed itself. It flew past him and into the cloaked stranger's right hand at the doorway. The hero tossed his sword to his left hand and then gestured to Garet to come outside.

"Show me where I'm needed," said the stranger.

Garet put the sword back on the writing desk, covering the patterns of the scabbard with his palms. He tried recalling the stranger's face, but failed; it was dark, the willing hero was cloaked and hooded, and Garet was too desperate to care about the hero's name and face back then.

He didn't remember how far they ran downstream in search for Felix and Isaac's family, but he followed the hero's cloaked shadow in the rain without question. And he remembered finding Isaac and Jenna unconscious on the riverbank. The hero told him they should take Isaac and Jenna back to the village, saying Felix and the rest were gone, but Garet didn't listen.

"_Felix isn't dead!_ He _can't_ be dead!"

"Kid..." said the hero, trying to calm him.

"You have to help! You have to help Felix! _Please_, you have to—"

"_Boy!_" said the stranger sharply, silencing Garet's wailing.

He remembered strong hands clutching his shoulders, and a commanding voice telling him to be strong for his friends. He remembered the calm voice tasking him to bring his friends back to safety. And he remembered the hero promising to head downstream and look for Felix and his family.

"You have my word," said the stranger. "Now, get these two back to the village. It's not safe here."

And then he was gone. He vanished into the night and never appeared in Vale again. None of the templars who headed downstream saw him. No one in the village remembered him.

But now the hero's sword was once again in Garet's hands. Could Saturos have taken the stranger's sword after murdering him or finding his dead body down the river?

Lowering his head to his palms, Garet propped his head up on his hands and elbows.

It didn't make any sense.

Saturos could have stolen the sword, but he couldn't have stolen the stranger's voice and speech pattern too.

It didn't make any sense. Saturos _couldn't_ be the cloaked stranger; he was a thief! He raided Sol Sanctum. He stabbed Felix in the chest. He took Jenna hostage. He tried kidnapping Ivan and Isaac! He _couldn't_ be the nameless hero of the storm.

It didn't make sense. It made no sense whatsoever.

Yet, it did.

The cloaked hero gave a heartbroken boy a promise to save his friend that night. And three years later Felix seemingly came back from the grave with Saturos and the other thief in tow.

It didn't make sense. It made no sense whatsoever. But then, _nothing_ made any sense now.

Why did Jenna run away? Why did Felix's lieutenant mock him with a naked duel? Who was the cloaked rider who showed up out of nowhere and rescued Saturos in the nick of time? And why did Mia run away without a word, leaving her young apprentice to deal with a mob?

Garet and Ivan had to limp back to the temple carrying Isaac's unconscious form. They were stopped at the gates and he had to yell and explain to the guards once more that he was a templar and that he didn't mean to smite them with "holy fire". After much squabbling, they were finally back at Imil's Sanctuary, where poor Justin had been scared senseless by the mob outside. The citizens demanded answers for the Light of Mercury—the eerie light was bad omen, obviously. Garet had seen their looks of panic before. It was the same looks he saw in his own people's faces during the tempest: when everyone fled for their lives and didn't care for whoever they shoved into the river to save themselves.

It took great effort to push through the crowd. Garet had to beg the child to let him in because Isaac was heavily injured again. He'd yelled at the townsfolk to shut up and stop scaring the child, and when Justin finally opened the door and stuck his head out, the citizens shoved Garet out of the way and tried tearing Justin apart. He had to pull the child away from them and then barricade the door as soon they were inside.

Justin had clung to Garet and he couldn't stop crying. He sobbed loudly into his shoulder, but he called out names that clearly didn't belong to Garet... He cried for Mia. He cried for Alex. And he cried for a number of other people whose names Garet couldn't remember. And where was the high priestess when all of this was going on? She was gone. She saddled her horse as soon she got back and left the city to chase after the thieves in a quest for vengeance of sort.

The mob dissipated after the town's leaders talked them into leaving. They wanted answers for the light of the beacon too, but they were wise enough to understand that scaring Mia's underage apprentice wouldn't help. Instead, the mayor and the council called out for _Garet_. They told _him_ to come forth instead because the guards saw him enter the tower with Mia prior.

Unable to make the decision, Garet kept his silence, hoping that Mia would get back as soon as possible, but she didn't show up at the temple even after sundown.

Justin was in no condition to heal anyone that day, but Ivan miraculously convinced him to at least stabilize Isaac before going to bed. The Wind Adept refused to leave Isaac's side, sobbing into the bedcloth and begging Isaac to wake up. And Garet sat in the chapel, praying into deep night.

He prayed for his friend to pull through. He prayed for the priestess to get back soon. He begged Saint Imil to guide him in his moment of desperation. And just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, Ivan screamed from the ward. On arrival, Garet found Isaac sitting on the floor with a long dagger in his chest and his entire shirt drenched in blood.

Isaac hadn't woken up ever since Justin mended his mortal wound and it's been almost two days and two nights since the incident.

Garet sighed, leaning back in the chair. He then covered his face with his hands and drew another deep breath. Rising to his feet, he finally left the priests' living quarters, silently passing Justin's room and the chapel as he headed to the ward where Isaac rested. His eyes twitched when he saw light pour out of the ward into the corridor. With hopes of Isaac having returned to the realm of the living, Garet quickly strode over to the doorframe, but to his disappointment he found the Wind Adept still at Isaac's bedside with a lit wax candle on the nightstand. Ivan held the unconscious Earth Adept's hand in what seemed like a gesture of affection—their fingers were entwined and he held Isaac's hand close to his lips. But the stone cold expression on Ivan's face made Garet wonder what the Wind Adept was actually thinking. Then, he saw Ivan's aura of Psynergy and realized that the boy was reading Isaac's mind.

"What are you doing?" said Garet flatly. His tone came out a bit more hostile than intended, but he couldn't help but feel unnerved about this child.

The Wind Adept lifted his gaze. His eyes grew tall and he let out a gasp, quickly letting go of Isaac's limp hand. He stopped using Mindread, his face became flushed and he began acting as if he was uncomfortable in his own skin, looking back and forth and searching for an escape.

"I-I... I was only..." Ivan stammered timidly, searching for words—or stalling while crafting another lie. "He... Isaac... he was talking in his sleep."

"Yes?" said Garet. It didn't matter that Ivan was acting afraid; he'd told Ivan to not abuse Mindread on people countless times and now he was doing it on a completely defenceless person. This was unacceptable.

"H-he said my name—" said Ivan finally, his voice cracking as the tears began to come. "I-I _remember_, Garet!" He was crying. "I didn't mean to invade Isaac's privacy, b-but he _called_ for me—" He seemed so distraught and scared that Garet almost felt sorry for him. "I-I'm sorry, Garet. I-I'm sorry! Please forgive me! I promise I won't do it again."

Garet kept his frown as he stared at the boy.

"It's all right," he finally told Ivan with a weary sigh, gesturing to the boy to come over to him. Yelling at Ivan wouldn't help, but he didn't want the Wind Adept near Isaac when he was unconscious either. "Come on, get out. Isaac needs rest and _you_ should sleep too."

Ivan nodded with quivering lips. He cast a sad look at Isaac, picked up the candle from the nightstand, and then slowly walked over to the Fire Adept's side.

When Garet took the candlestick, the boy timidly tried reaching out for him at first, but then let his hand drop to his side. Rolling his eyes, Garet switched the candle over to his other hand and offered Ivan a hand to hold.

As he guided the Wind Adept back to his room in the priests' living quarters, Ivan squeezed his hand from time to time. Garet kept looking at Ivan from the corner of his eyes. He had no idea of what Ivan was thinking. Ivan looked so small and helpless with his lowered head and scrunched shoulders, but Garet couldn't help but feel that this was all an act. If this had been another child, Garet would have tried to comfort him. But this was _Ivan_, and there was a voice in the back of Garet's head that warned him of Ivan's inviting vulnerability.

There were so many reasons not to trust Ivan: He carried a concealed weapon in his sleeve and never told anyone about it—as if the silver dagger was _meant_ to be used against Isaac and Garet. And he did use it against Isaac—he stabbed Isaac in the chest, for heaven's sake! Isaac trusted him and he literary shoved a dagger in his heart.

Reaching Ivan's room, Garet ushered Ivan to bed and then half-heartedly tucked him in. He was about to leave when the Wind Adept suddenly threw the blanket off and grabbed his sleeve.

"What is it?" asked Garet flatly.

Ivan seemed taken aback and shakily let go. He sank under the blankets and turned away, but managed to croak out his request anyway:

"Stay until I'm asleep, will you?"

"_What?_" said Garet, genuinely puzzled by the strange request.

"N-nevermind…" whispered Ivan. He turned away from Garet and towards the wall, pulling the blanket high above his ears in shame.

Garet sighed. He grabbed the stool and took a seat next to Ivan's bed. The flame of the candle went out on his command.

"Please, could you keep the light?" asked Ivan.

"Sure," replied Garet with a wry smile, and once again the small flame filled the room with light. At first, Garet simply stared at the wall in front of him, wondering how long he'd have to stay here. Feeling awkward, he then extended his free hand towards Ivan and stroked the Wind Adept's soft blond hair.

"Are you well?" Garet then asked gently.

Ivan nodded, although he sniffled and cried silently into the pillow. Garet looked away towards the wall, although he kept absently stroking Ivan's hair with his fingertips.

He wondered if Ivan wasn't still scared after Isaac beat him up. The boy said Isaac flew into unstoppable rage and tried to kill him. He said Isaac tried to smother him with a pillow and then tried to brutally beat him to death when he fought back...

But that didn't make any sense.

When Garet arrived to the scene, he saw Isaac cradling Ivan in his arms in the moonlight with his linen shirt drenched in blood. Isaac was so busy trying to comfort Ivan that he didn't even care about the fancy dagger sticking out from his chest. How could _he_ have assaulted Ivan first?

Sure, Ivan had bruises on his face and neck to prove that there was indeed a struggle. But it didn't make any sense—why the hell would Isaac try to kill Ivan? He almost got himself killed for Ivan's sake at the Lighthouse. And that was worrying—Isaac was willing to die for a boy he barely knew.

He furrowed his brow and leaned back when the heat from the candle's flame burned his forehead. He looked towards Ivan, who wasn't moving or making any sound. Garet withdrew his hand and rose to his feet. He tucked the sleeping Wind Adept in properly. The boy sure seemed vulnerable and sweet when he slept; no wonder Isaac became attached to him so easily—

Wait a minute. What was that on Ivan's finger? Garet didn't notice it since Isaac wrapped Ivan's hands every day, but he now saw that it wasn't just any golden band: It was a signet ring.

Isaac ate up all of Ivan's lies, but Garet didn't believe a second that Ivan was a servant; no servant would be allowed to wear a _royal purple_. And now there was a golden signet ring on his finger. A _signet ring! _How could Isaac not have noticed this ring when he wrapped Ivan's hands _every_ day?

He gently whispered the boy's name a few times, testing if he really was asleep. When the Wind Adept didn't respond, Garet put the candlestick on the chair and then took the ring from Ivan's finger to get a closer look at the seal. He'd never delved deep into heraldry, but it clearly showed a two-headed eagle with a crown above its heads. He _knew_ it! Ivan was _indeed_ a noble of sorts. Sure, he could've stolen _the ring _and_ the fancy silver dagger_, but that didn't explain _his clothes_. The green jacket seemed a bit big for him, but the purple tunic and legwear fitted perfectly; those clothes were obviously tailored for _him_.

Suddenly, Garet remembered what Justin told him when he asked for Harald's writ back today. The message to Imil's Sanctuary wasn't delivered by a nameless monk or a poor traveller. Someone from a famous mercenary group delivered it and that was why Mia took the warning seriously—getting the Silver Eagles to run delivery work was apparently a big deal. The Bilibian temple wouldn't spend that kind of money to help Garet recover some relics! Clearly, someone of great influence and wealth had enlisted this swift messenger. Garet had briefly wondered who it could have been, but he never thought that it could have been Ivan—or should he say _Prince_ Ivan of Kalay?

Garet suddenly realized what part of Ivan that really made him sick in the stomach—the fact that Ivan won't even let Garet and Isaac know him. How could he possibly trust Ivan if he won't even be honest with him? Trust was a two-way street. All this time, he'd used fake identities—_why?_ Was he _ashamed_ of his new friends? Did the little nobleman think the two peasants would try mooching off him if they knew he was rich? Garet clutched the ring tighter. His heart sank at the thought of Ivan possibly having ulterior motives in getting close to Isaac. He only saw them as tools and he gravely insulted them in Vault by claiming they could be "bought". And it suddenly struck Garet that the Wind Adept was schmoozing Isaac because the gullible Earth Adept eagerly taught him magic. Ivan probably didn't even care about Isaac as a friend. He only cared about what he could _obtain from_ Isaac.

Garet lifted his gaze and glanced down towards Ivan, but his eyes grew tall when he found the Wind Adept staring back at him with a glassy expression. For a moment all the Fire Adept could do was staring back and trying not to twitch, breathe loudly or make a dumb move that could worsen his situation. He could see that Ivan _wasn't_ reading his mind, so the only way Ivan could know Garet stole his ring was if he _allowed_ the boy to find out.

"You... dropped your ring in the ward," said Garet. He said the words as calmly as he could, but he felt blood rush to his face. All he could hope was that the warm candlelight didn't make the guilt on his reddened face too obvious. "I just cleaned it for you."

Ivan continued to stare at him emotionlessly with his purple eyes. His pupils then flickered sideways and then the boy lifted his blanket high above his lips and sunk a bit deeper into the pillow.

"Thank you..." replied Ivan dejectedly, not even asking for his ring back.

Garet instantly felt nauseous with overwhelming guilt. This was terrible. This was so terrible. Ivan obviously didn't believe the lie, but he had forced himself to swallow it. This was terrible. This was just utterly terrible. Garet felt as if he'd just kicked a pup. And that pup was _Ivan_.

"I-I'll put it here," said Garet, placing the signet ring on the stool. "Um... uh... good night, Ivan."

With light footsteps, he fled the scene, keeping his cool even as he closed the door and left the corridor. But once he reached the chapel he covered his face with his hands and gasped for breath.

Sitting down on the nearest bench, he tried to calm himself—he didn't steal the ring! He was only looking! There was no reason to overreact—if Ivan insisted to ask about it tomorrow, he could still explain. _Garet wasn't a thief!_ He would never steal from others!

Suddenly, he inhaled and held his breath.

On the thought of stealing… What if Ivan didn't mention the ring and the dagger because they really were stolen? What if Ivan was an opportunistic thief himself and had stolen the stuff from King Hammet? Maybe that's the true reason he couldn't go back to his master… Maybe that's why Ivan wanted to stick with Isaac. Because he could protect him! But that didn't explain the letter…

_Gah!_ Garet exhaled and slapped himself. Why was he making things so complicated? What if the temple really asked those mercenaries to deliver it? What if they were pious and wouldn't turn down a request from holy men? Garet wondered if he wasn't just overly paranoid. Maybe he was just incredibly unfair in his judgement. So what if Ivan had a bit of trouble to stop using Mindread? He'd done it all his life and changing a life's habit wasn't something one did on the fly. So what if Ivan was nobility? That didn't mean they couldn't be friends.

He sighed and clasped his hands in prayer.

May Saint Imil lend him the courage to see this through. May Saint Imil grant Isaac the strength to return to the world of the living. May the Saints have mercy on Felix's soul.

He woke up with a wry neck, having fallen asleep on the bench. White light shone in through the window behind the altar—it was morning. A warm cloak was draped over him like a duvet. It was white and had a blue pattern on it so he assumed Justin or his sister had brought it to him. Garet folded it up and then stretched the back of his neck, grimacing.

He dragged his feet back to the study to finish his letter, but instead found the room completely wrecked. Broken glass and herbs and parchment lay strewn on the floor. The wardrobe and the drawers were open and everything inside was gone. The bed was empty and a large blotch of black ink was left after the smashing of an inkbottle. What happened here? It almost seemed like bandits had been here in search for valuables…

_Bandits_. By the Saints! Remembering Isaac and the others, Garet sprinted to Justin and Ivan's rooms.

"Justin! Ivan!" He called out to the boys as he tore open the doors, but he couldn't find the children. He turned around and dashed towards the ward, his heart pounding against his ribs as he ran.

"Isaac! Ivan! Justin!"

He prayed to the Saints for his friends to be safe. There were wet footsteps on the wooden floorboard in the corridor and they were too big to belong to Justin or Ivan. As he reached the ward, he called out Isaac's name but instead of Isaac, he found _Ivan_ sleeping in Isaac's bed with his arms wrapped around the pillow. The boy slept heavily and didn't seem aware of that someone had broken into the temple last night. But the important question wasn't what Ivan was doing in Isaac's bed but rather where Isaac had gone—he was still injured for heaven's sake!

Garet spun around and left the ward, turning his head back and forth in the corridor. Where should he search first? He decided to follow the footsteps and was led to the backyard. The backdoor stood open and the chilly wind carried snow in from outside. But instead of more tracks of thieves, Garet was greeted with the sight of a huge bonfire.

The high priestess was back and she stood in front of the pyre, throwing books and clothes into the flames. Garet had no idea when she returned or what had prompted the burning, but he had clearly caught the priestess in a bad moment. He was about to leave when he suddenly saw Saturos's sword in her hands.

"No, I need that!" said Garet, running forth and yanking the blade out of her hands before she could throw it. The priestess stared at him, her eyes burning with anger, but she didn't try to reclaim the sword and instead chucked other stuff into the fire.

Garet backed away. He dusted some snow off the sword and sighed in relief. Wait, where was the armour? He cast a desperate look towards the pile of items waiting to be burned and ran back to look for Saturos's armour.

It wasn't there. It was probably already in the pyre. Garet clutched the sword tightly but then turned towards the priestess in frustration.

_Why_?

He shook his head and turned away in disbelief. Why did she burn the armour? They might find clues of Saturos's identity on the armour and they could use that information to trace back to whoever Felix was working for!

His anger subsided when he suddenly heard sobbing from behind. Turning back, he spotted Justin sitting next to the doorframe and crying in the cold. Garet looked at the boy and then cast a glare back at the priestess. Finally, he knelt next to Justin, who gave him a hesitant look as his shadow loomed over him.

"Come on," said Garet gently, giving Justin a smile. "Let's go back in. It's cold here."

Seeing Justin's tear-filled eyes and how he knitted his eyebrows and balled up his fists, Garet put a hand on the boy's shoulder and asked:

"Hey… what's wrong?"

"Alex is dead," replied Justin in between sobs.

Alex who? _Oh_. Garet cast a glance back towards the high priestess, who still stood by the bonfire in unmoving silence. So the lost priest had truly died. So that's why Mia was burning all his things. Garet took the cloak he still carried under his arm and threw it around Justin's shoulders.

"Come on, let's get you back inside. You're freezing."

Justin looked reluctant and kept eyeing back towards the bonfire. Garet didn't know what to say to comfort the boy. He didn't even know anything about this dead priest except that he was Justin's other teacher. It felt inappropriate to try saying something about Alex when he didn't even know who he was as a person.

The boy looked down and then pulled the white cloak around him. Garet watched Justin rise from the ground and limp towards the bonfire, reaching out to the high priestess. But once Mia saw him, she grabbed Justin's collar and almost lifted him from his feet.

"_He's dead!_" she yelled. She then ripped the white cloak away from Justin and shook it in her hands. "Do you hear me? He's dead! He's not coming back no matter how much you cry! _Do you understand?_" She shook him another time, forcing Justin to agree with a pained nod.

"Justin!" Garet cried out and quickly made his way over to the scene. The priestess let go, and Justin tripped backwards into his arms.

Mia spun around and angrily tossed the cloak into the flames, not even looking back at her apprentice. The boy's face was screwed up in tears and grief, and he refused to let himself be comforted, pushing past Garet and running back indoors.

The priestess didn't even move, her hands clutching the standing clerical staff in silence as she continued to stare into the flames. Her expression was firm and cold, and she refused to even acknowledge Garet's presence.

"Priestess—" began Garet, but she spun around and walked past him, saying the council had summoned her again.

Knowing better than to anger her further, Garet went to look for Justin instead. He didn't know to where the boy had run off; he wasn't in his room, in the chapel, or even the ward. He finally checked the kitchen and there he found a blond-haired person sitting at the table in their undergarments—Isaac.

"H-hey..." said Garet. An awkward smile pulled up the corners of his mouth and he let out a slight chuckle. "Morning…"

Isaac weakly turned around on his stool and nodded in greeting with the weakest smile Garet had ever seen on his face. The Earth Adept didn't say anything and seemed exhausted, despite having slept for almost three days straight! Even so, Garet was too relieved to care about details and instead silently thanked Saint Imil for hearing his prayers.

"I'll make you breakfast," said Garet with a weak smile. He stepped towards the cupboard, but Isaac tapped the bowl of porridge with his spoon in response and then pointed at the pot where there was more.

"Oh..." Garet suddenly didn't know what to say. He picked up a wooden bowl for himself, filled it with porridge and then sat down by the kitchen table to make Isaac company. As he began eating he remembered the night he found Isaac with Ivan's dagger in his chest. He lifted his gaze and looked at his friend, who ate absentmindedly and slowly. Was it appropriate to ask Isaac about the night he was stabbed right away?

"So, about Felix," said Isaac. "What happened to him?"

"He got away," replied Garet evenly, watching Isaac's reaction closely.

The Earth Adept sat still for a moment and stared down at his bowl, seemingly in deep thought. He then asked about Felix's lieutenant—Did they manage to take him captive, he asked, or was he dead?

"He got away too," replied Garet.

Isaac's eyes twitched and he gripped his spoon tightly, but he didn't lift his gaze.

"Someone swooped in on horseback and took him away. We couldn't see the rider's face either—he was cloaked and hooded. He lifted Saturos to his horse with a spell."

"So another warlock…" said Isaac with a sigh. "Was he strong?"

"Don't know. He didn't want to fight. He just lifted Saturos up to his horse with Psynergy and rode away as fast as possible. I had to get you back to get treatment for your wounds so I didn't chase."

"Right…" Isaac smiled weakly. "Can't chase someone on horseback on foot."

Garet thought of telling his friend about how Mia took up the chase and went missing for three days, but he doubted Isaac cared about the priestess. Not knowing how to continue the conversation, he sat silent for a while and then went back to eating.

"Garet, what's an anchor?" asked Isaac suddenly.

"Huh?" said Garet, swallowing his food and looking back at his friend, bewildered. He didn't know what prompted the strange question, and he was quite sure that Isaac knew what an anchor was. "It's a heavy object that prevents a boat from drifting away with the current?"

"Nevermind…" said Isaac, looking away. His eyes wandered and he mouthed silent words for himself.

"Uhm… Isaac?" Garet worriedly studied his friend's absentminded expression. "You all right? Isaac? You don't look so well."

"I'm fine," replied Isaac, his gaze suddenly focusing on the food on the table. "So… what's the plan?"

"Plan? What plan?" asked Garet.

"We can't fight Felix. He's too strong and he has too powerful allies on top of it." Isaac sounded unnaturally sombre for being a person who never gave up. "I want to go home," Isaac whispered. "I'm tired. I can't do this. I'm too tired…"

Garet sighed and gave his friend a pat on the shoulder. He told Isaac they had no chance to beat Felix and his minions, and that Jenna wouldn't have wanted them to throw their lives away. Isaac nodded weakly in response, but he still didn't meet Garet's eyes.

"You know… I was really ready to go as a prisoner when we lost," said Isaac with a rueful chuckle. "I wanted to see what Felix had become. I wanted to…" He trailed off and then become silent. "But then… I just remembered… Jenna… Ivan… I just couldn't… I-I…" Again, he trailed off and was unable to finish his sentence, drawing breathy gasps as he tried hiding his tears.

Garet looked away from his friend.

"It's fine," he said, trying to soften the blow. "At least we have some sort of idea of how strong Felix and his companions are. Hey, next time we'll bring more men and _then_ we'll show Felix who's boss!"

He finished his food while Isaac wiped his tears. As he brought his bowl to the washing tub on the floor he asked Isaac when he wanted to leave Imil for the journey back to Vale.

"As soon as possible," replied the friend.

"How about at noon?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Then it's decided. I'll go pack up and finish the letter to the temple."

Isaac nodded silently as Garet made his way past the kitchen table. But just when he passed Isaac, Garet suddenly remembered something important he needed to ask:

"One more thing, Isaac," said Garet as he turned back towards the Earth Adept. "What happened that night Ivan stabbed you?"

Isaac winced, and sat silent for a moment.

"It was an accident," he then whispered.

Garet narrowed his eyes after hearing Isaac's vague answer. How did you end up with a knife in your chest by accident?

"That's not what Ivan told us," said Garet. He went back to the table and took a seat, studying his friend's avoiding eyes and difficult expression; Isaac was obviously trying to hide something.

"Then what did he tell you?" asked the friend.

"That you tried to murder him in rage and that he stabbed you in self-defence."

Isaac's eyes twitched and in what seemed like shock. If Garet hadn't been staring at him he'd have missed his true reaction.

"Ivan told you the truth," said the Earth Adept, but Garet didn't believe it for a second. It didn't take a telepath to see that Isaac was lying—his tense posture and troubled look were dead giveaways. He was hiding something, but for what reason? Then, Garet remembered what happened in Vault and questioned:

"Did you beat him up because he read your mind again?"

"What? _No!_ I—" Again, Isaac winced and his words trailed off. This time he pretended to cough and sneeze to buy time crafting his lies.

"I don't know…" said Isaac with a breathy sigh, staring blankly at the wall behind the Fire Adept.

Something was wrong—it was very unusual for Isaac to stutter like this. Garet was about to dig deeper into the issue when he suddenly heard someone running in the corridor. Turning his gaze to the doorway, he found Ivan standing there with his clothes in disarray and a surprised expression on his face. The boy lifted his hands to cover his mouth and inhaled loudly while staring at Isaac's face with wide violet eyes. His Psynergy aura shone brightly but as usual he was too quick to quench his mindreading before Garet could call him out. The Wind Adept let out a sniffle and then rushed over to Isaac who immediately caught him in a hug.

Garet incredulously shook his head when the Earth Adept caressed Ivan's shoulder blades and nuzzled his blond hair, whispering words of comfort in his ear. Ivan only managed broken guttural noises in response, but he clamped his arms tightly around Isaac's neck and held on for dear life. Garet couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at his lips, and he had to mentally slap himself to not give in—it was Ivan; it was Ivan who stabbed Isaac to begin with.

"I'm fine..." said Isaac with a loving smile, pulling away from the hug. He cupped Ivan's chin with a hand, brushing away the tears with his thumb. "Look at you… you're crying again…"

"Sorry," said Ivan, wiping his tears.

Garet rolled his eyes and began leaving. The kid was acting like a six year old rather than his actual age.

"Don't be…" Isaac comforted the boy. "It's my fault for getting possessed."

Hearing that, Garet's eyes grew tall.

"What?" He spluttered and turned back to stare at the younger Adepts. "_WHAT_?"

Ivan froze up, gripping Isaac's shoulders. And Isaac made an anguished expression and pressed an open palm to his stupid face.

"_Uuugh_…" The Earth Adept moaned in sheer annoyance. "Nothing."

"_Nothing?_" repeated Garet. He couldn't believe this.

Isaac winced and defensively hid Ivan behind him for some stupid reason; as if Garet would hit Ivan when _Isaac_ was the idiot deserving a punch in the face!

He didn't hit Isaac though; he punched the table instead, making the plates and cups clatter. Ivan shuddered and lowered his face to Isaac's shoulder, but Garet ignored the boy, focusing on the idiot instead.

"You explain what happened, _now!_" he said, staring Isaac down. "_What do you mean you were possessed?_"

He didn't want to start a fight when Isaac had just returned to the realm of the living, but this was just too important to ignore. He couldn't believe Isaac's offhand tone after almost being _murdered_ by a person he trusted!

Isaac, on the other hand, didn't seem to grasp the severity of his near death experience and wouldn't stop rolling his eyes and making the most obnoxious expressions.

"You think this is _funny_?" Garet yelled at the Earth Adept. "Do you even understand how worried we all were when you lay unconscious for three days, you idiot? And now you're keeping the reason behind the incident for yourself? You better tell me what happened the night you got stabbed or I'll send you back to the realm of the dead—_What do you mean you got possessed?_"

Isaac slowly rose from his stool—cornflower eyes blazing in fury. He pointed an accusing finger at Garet, spluttered a short "I-!" but then abruptly closed his mouth and rigidly turned away, sitting down to stuff his face with porridge in silence.

"Unbelievable," said Garet. He then menacingly pointed at Isaac. "You think I won't find out because you won't talk?"

Isaac ate obnoxiously loudly in response. Garet rewarded his indignation by threatening his precious Wind Adept. He yelled out Ivan's name, and that was all he needed to do to regain the Earth Adept's attention. Isaac slammed his spoon down on the table and glared at Garet, baring his teeth in rage. Garet cocked his eyebrows and nodded meaningfully to his friend with a wide stare. He wasn't really going to hurt Ivan, but Isaac—being a massive idiot, couldn't possibly know.

"I sleepwalked," said Isaac, finally. "There, _happy?_"

"No," replied Garet. "_Explain!_"

"I don't even know what happened!" Isaac stood up and raised his voice as well. "I had a weird dream about ghosts talking to me and then I woke up with a knife in my chest, _what do you want me to say?_"

"You said you were _possessed_!"

"Well it sure seemed that way!"

"That weird dream; what was it about?"

"I don't remember!" Isaac wheezed with bloodshot and watering eyes. "For heaven's sake, _Mother_—do I need to report my dreams to you too?"

Isaac's breathing came out in ragged gasps and he almost looked like an angry bull. This subject was apparently even more sensitive than expected. Garet figured he couldn't possibly get proper answers when Isaac was so upset, so he dropped the subject. Raising his hands in peace he backed out of the kitchen and left the younger Adepts alone to reconcile.

He returned to the chapel and slumped down on the same bench he slept on last night. His mind wandered back to the tasks he yet had to complete: finish the letter back to Vale, tell Justin and Mia that they were leaving, restock supplies, find a messenger to deliver the letter, and so on…

Garet covered his face with his hands, letting out a deep sigh. He leant back against the bench, and then stared up at the ceiling in defeat.

Isaac wasn't the only person being tired; Garet was, too.

* * *

Isaac hadn't spoken to him ever since the fight in the kitchen. He spent all time mending clothes and packing while Garet rewrote the letter to Vale. At noon, the letter was sealed and the bags were packed. All that remained was to restock the supplies and finding a messenger.

Garet looked for Mia. She had to know someone who could deliver a message to Vale. Exiting the temple, he found Justin sitting on the steps with a three feet tall ceramic vase next to him. His hazel eyes harboured a conflicted look and the boy hugged his knees against his chest with his new white robes were bunched up at his feet.

"Hey..." said Garet and Justin's gaze flicked upwards to meet the Fire Adept's eyes. "New robes?"

Justin pursed his lips together and looked away.

"You're leaving too, aren't you?" said the boy bitterly.

Garet's gaze flew to the letter in his hand for a moment.

"Isaac's fine now so I guess we'll have to leave," he replied. "We've overstayed…"

He sat down next to the boy and put a comforting hand on Justin's shoulder. The little priest seemed even scrawnier than Ivan in those robes, and he was behaving similarly to how Ivan did around Isaac—his shoulders were scrunched and he seemed about to cry. Justin with his hazel eyes reminded Garet so much of his own little brother in Vale. Just like Aaron, he acted tough when everything was fine, but once trouble arrived he returned to being a child.

"Mia's back," said Garet with a half-hearted smile. "I'm no longer needed here. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see."

Justin shut his eyes and let out a sniffle, shaking his head. Garet didn't quite understand what he did to make the boy cry, but he petted Justin on the head and comfortingly told him he'd miss him too.

"Mia's gone!" said Justin, crying. "She took a bunch of people from the watch and left the city! Sh-she... said I have to run the temple now! She told me I'm the main healer now."

The news hit Garet on the chest like a sledgehammer.

"I'll talk to Mia," he quickly told Justin, but the boy repeated that the priestess had already left the city.

"Wh-what? Th-that's insane!"

Garet froze. He didn't know what to say to comfort the boy, but he had to say _something_!

"Hey, don't worry!" he said, attempting to cheer Justin up. "I know you're a competent healer, Justin—I've seen it firsthand! You'll be all right."

Even though he was smiling, his stomach lurched. Competent healer or not—the kid couldn't run the temple alone! And he had to take care of his seven year old sister on top of it.

This was insane. _Mia_ was insane! How much responsibility could an _eleven year old_ take? Justin was exhausted after just healing Nik and Isaac outside the gate—how was he supposed to handle all the sick in Imil _alone?_

Garet couldn't believe this. How could Mia desert her temple in a time like this? Justin needed her! And what was _Garet_ supposed to do? _He_ couldn't stay here and protect her apprentice forever. His duties were in _Vale_. And his mission was to reclaim the Elemental Stars! He'd been away from home for months and he had no idea how his own family fared!

"She couldn't have left you without any instructions or anything to go by!" said Garet. "_Come on!_"

Justin sniffled and pointed to the vase at his feet.

"What's with the vase?" asked Garet.

"M-mia said I should use the water from the Mer-mercury Lighthouse if someone sick comes in. Sh-she said even a child can distribute the Water of Hermes. Sh-she said it cures all illnesses..."

_Krr._

Hearing the door open, Garet threw a glance back and upwards to see Isaac lead Ivan out of the temple. The friend cast a look down at Garet and Justin, but then signed to Garet that he'll go restock supplies in town. Garet whisked him away and then turned back to the young priest. He knew he had more important things to do, but he didn't have the heart to leave Justin all alone when he was so sad.

"Who will take care of you?" asked Garet.

"No one…" replied Justin, sniffling. I'll have to take care of myself, and Megan. But… M-Mia says members of the Mercury Clan become men at twelve. So I'll manage I think… I don't know..."

"You'll have the financial support right?"

Justin nodded silently, saying that the village supported the temple when Mia and Alex were here. He then sniffled and said he didn't know what will happen now when _he_ was in charge. He said he wanted to be a real priest and that he hated to be considered weak, but he also admitted that he didn't have the strength to lead the temple yet and that he was terrified that he'd run the temple to ruins in Mia's absence. He said he wasn't even that great of a healer and that he'd just put on a brave face for show. He said he missed Alex and that he was the only person who understood how he felt. He said Alex always encouraged him and told him he had the talents to become a great healer.

"Well, then you shouldn't disappoint your master," said Garet with a smile.

Justin pursed his lips and fixed his gaze on his knees.

"I don't know much about healing," said Garet, shamefully averting his eyes. Isaac had been putting him down for squandering his fiery gift ever since this misadventure begun. "I mean, I've _tried_, but—" He paused. "It just didn't work out. But you… you have talent, Justin. Just looking at you, I can see that you'll become a great healer one day."

"You think so? You… you really think so, Garet?"

"Treat Mia's leave as a challenge. I know you can do it."

Justin slowly wiped his tears. He then picked up the vase and rose to his feet, looking much more confident in his task, although he had to renew his grip around the vase rather quickly.

Worrying that the boy would have trouble getting the big container back when it was filled, Garet offered to help Justin on his first trip. The young priest smiled and nodded shyly, but he didn't hand over the vase.

"I'll tell you about that once I first tried to heal," said Garet, smiling. Snow began falling softly from above as they began making their way towards the Lighthouse. "It was a disaster."

* * *

_**Author's Notes**_:

Another reason for why some writers just cross out the Djinn is because if the Djinn are granting power-boosts, then why don't Felix and Menardi hoard them too?

In my version, the "Djinn's Favour" is very vague and they do not give free lunches. There will be consequences of making deals with them. This sinister element to the Djinn would at least offer a reason for why some people (Garet) do not want their gifts.

Garet and Isaac have different weaknesses. There is a reason why the Djinn masquerade as Felix, by the way. We will eventually find out more about the Djinn's nature and powers but that's later down the line.

I don't have much to say about Mia's behaviour, but I think rage is more fitting considering how I built her character and her relation with Alex.

The storm of Vale is also sort of a mystery since in my version things played out differently. Of course, it still ended up with Felix and his family being carried away, but there are alterations. The helpful stranger is one of those changes.


	14. – The Mender of the World

**O**nce upon a time, there was a boy.

He wasn't a strong child—Alexander; he was sickly, small, and frail. The beginning of his life was a bit of a blur; all the reminders he had of his past was a wooden flute and a song. He never knew his mother and he'd certainly forgotten his father's face.

"Stay here," his father told him as he gave him his wide brimmed hat. "I'll be back soon," the father told him and then kissed him goodbye.

But he never returned as promised; he left Alexander behind.

Yet, the child waited faithfully for his return for many days and nights. For days, for weeks, he stayed on the steps of Saint Prox's shrine. For days, for weeks, his flute would sing deep into the night. For days, for weeks, he slept in the cold and wept until his eyes were all dry.

Until one day he was caught stealing the temple's offerings and a kind-hearted priest changed the direction of his life.

"Child, what's your name?" said the priest, clutching his narrow wrist tightly. "Dear, where's your mother?" asked High Priest Dmitri, looking deep into Alexander's eyes.

The boy thought he'd be punished; he cried bitterly, begging for his life. But the priest just smile and embraced him, holding him tightly as he told Alexander "Everything will be all right."

When Alexander hesitantly looked back, the priest loosened his grip around his wrist and took his little hand. Raising their hands, he then turned them over, knuckles facing up.

And there they were—on their forearms—wings. Wings, intricately drawn with blue ink—wings of the same kind. Wings; proof of his birthright.

And so he came to leave the streets of Loho. So, Alexander became a novice of the Order of Imil—a shy little priest. His uncle raised him and loved him as his own child. His uncle High Priest Dmitri, who was a shining beacon of light. Alexander swore to make his uncle proud and shine as brightly as him one day and even brighter still.

His tender smile and healing hands earned him the love and respect of many and he was happy with his life. He had everything he could wish for; respect from his fellow men, a seat in the council, a loving bride by his side…

Who could have thought he'd become a traitor, tear down all he stood for, and leave his bride behind?

* * *

Frost glimmered in the morning light as Alex approached the partially frozen river, the breeze bending the reeds and catching his hair that now was black. He pushed the curtain of reeds aside and stepped out on the ice, testing the thickness with his spear. Then, he lowered himself to the surface and removed a glove, reaching out and touching the ice with a spell in hand. Ripples of energy pulsed from his fingertips as the ice melted, leaving a hole large enough for him to lower his buckets in.

Alex looked at his reflection in the still water. It's been years since he had his hair cut so short. It wasn't bad—his head felt a lot lighter without the long tresses, but the cold neck left him with a feeling of finality that he wasn't entirely comfortable with yet.

He tucked a stray lock back behind his ear and then brushed his thumb against his index finger, studying the fading black smear there. As soon he was out of Imilian territory, he'd wash the "dye" off. It stuck to everything—his clothes, his skin—everything it touched.

A crow cawed in the distant trees and reminded him of his task. Alex filled the two buckets with water. He then sighed and gazed over his shoulder, squinting as he looked at the blue star in the distant horizon trying to outshine the sun.

Lifting his unclothed hand and letting the sleeve roll back, he looked at the tattoo on his arm, remembering all the promises he gave and received from his loved ones. When Felix shredded his coat and Jenna cut his hair, he told himself it was too late for regrets, Yet, he kept looking back.

He remembered a time when he believed that a diligent mender was all he needed to be. But while he obeyed all tenets and upheld every rule, he still asked questions when he realized that some things didn't seem right. And maybe his innocent questioning had rubbed off on his uncle, which in turn led to the tragedy that started it all.

A meek smile dawned on Alex's lips as he picked up his spear and the buckets and then rose to his feet. He turned back to the snowy road, starting to head back to the camp.

Had he chosen to be the diligent priest he was meant to be and stayed away from the Lighthouse, perhaps he'd be atop the wall with the Mercury Clan's banner in his hand and his beloved by his side. Instead of an outlaw in his homeland he could have been a hero of the people, or died a martyr defending his faith to the end. But then, he would've lived and died as another pawn in someone else's scheme.

Alex clutched his spear and the buckets tightly, his steady march unwavering despite the storm in his mind.

Yes, he would have lived and died as yet another insignificant pawn like his ancestors before him with a broken spear in hand. But he didn't. He didn't because he loved his uncle dearly and couldn't forget his last words as if they meant nothing to him. Because he loved his cousin deeply and couldn't let her father's death slide.

He was fifteen—take or give a couple of days—when High Priest Dmitri died.

He tried—no-one can say he didn't try. He tried to be the kind and diligent priest he was meant to be. He smiled in ceremonies and healed the wounded and the sick, continuing his life the way it was supposed to be. But he couldn't focus on his duties, as nightmares plagued him every night. He couldn't focus when his uncle's last words constantly echoed in his mind. And as she worried and fussed over him, the guilt tore him up from the inside.

Finally, he told her the truth: that their sacred duty was a lie. He told her the Lighthouse killed her father, and that they're spitting on his grave continuing this false legacy. Then, he took her hand and asked her to run away with him and leave their wretched duty behind.

She didn't take it well, so he quickly fell back on a lie; he was afraid of losing her, so he lied. He told her he didn't mean what he said. He told her he was still grieving, and that he needed more time.

So he left the city on a quest, pretending to be a missionary from the north. In his search for the truth he journeyed to many places; to the City of Lalivero, to the Venus Lighthouse, to the village of Vale… And in the ruins of Loho he'd finally put all pieces together and discover a truth so incredible that he didn't think anyone would believe him even if he brought it to light.

"You must unlock the power," his uncle told him, right before he died. "You are Imil's chosen, Alexander, it is your duty to show the world its light."

But how? He was just a lone priest—not Saint Imil with his spear of light. How could he convince the rest of the world that the Elemental Lighthouses were meant to be ignited? How could he convince the zealots of Vale to hand him the Elemental Stars without losing his life? And how could he keep _her_ and still convince her that her entire life had been a lie?—How could he keep her and still walk the path of light?

It was Felix. Felix thought he saved him when he was merely resting in the abandoned mine. Mild-mannered Felix dug him out of the caves and healed him even though Alex knew a proper exit right around the corner.

It was Felix. Felix carried a drunken priest back to the temple and Menardi recognized the wings on his arm. Menardi—she believed she'd convinced him to join the cause with promises of glory. Little did she know he had been waiting for someone to take the lead all along.

It was Felix. Felix gave him the courage and inspiration he needed to walk the path of light. Felix, who was a craven too, found enough courage to turn against the Zealots of Vale. If Felix could walk into the jaws of hell for his family, what was _his_ excuse? If Felix could play the villain to save his parents, _Alex_ could do the same for _her_.

Alex sighted the caravan resting on the side of the road. Smoke from the cooking fires rose to the clouded sky. He then smiled for himself and sighed.

Nothing went according to plan—_nothing_. And he couldn't quite decide whether the fault was his or Menardi's.

Yes, he overslept, but Menardi had promised him _two days _to finish his own business. Yet, she broke her promise and strong-armed him into opening the lighthouse before he was ready.

He remembered waking up alone in bed with the sun shining through the curtains in the late morning. He'd flown out of bed, grabbing his clothes in haste and tripping out of his room while dressing on the way to the dining hall. He hadn't told Mia the truth yet, and he had almost forgotten that he was supposed to bring Felix here so that they could convince her to let him light the beacon.

He ran to the dining hall looking for her, but she was gone—Justin told him she'd let him sleep in… She'd told Justin to let him sleep in because she thought he was tired, and she'd gone to council in his place.

Panicking, he grabbed his ceremonial spear and ran to the chapel. He was about to leave the temple when Igor came in and told him the recently arrested arsonists claimed they were his friends.

The northlanders' arrest had forced him to make a visit to the barracks. He could have cleared the misunderstanding with his position of power, but they'd already freed themselves once he got there. And upon seeing him, Menardi took him hostage and used him to get out of the city. Then, she dragged him straight to the Mercury Lighthouse and demanded that he immediately opened the gates.

"Open the door!" said Menardi, shoving him against the Lighthouse's gates once they arrived. "I should've known better than to trust you, _Patriarch_."

A little bit more time. He just needed a little bit more time. Why couldn't they wait? _Why_ did they beat up the Imilian Watch when he could've resolved the situation peacefully?

As he traced the lock with a spell and opened the gates, Felix spoke for his innocence. But Menardi was furious, proposing the idea that Alex might have ordered the guards to arrest her in the first place. She then proceeded to force Alex open the path to the "control room". Nevermind that the Imilian Watch was gathering their forces to rescue him. Nevermind that Mia would storm the tower calling for their blood if he didn't return to the temple before Oleg or Igor did.

Yet, he knew it was meaningless to defy Menardi's orders at that point—they'd broken out of prison, revealed themselves as magic users, and injured half of the Imilian Watch.

He'd tried to salvage the disaster; stumbling through the thick snow and tripping his way back to the city as quickly as possible. He almost fell into the arms of the watchmen at the east gate when he ran out of breath. He pathetically dragged his feet all the way back to the temple, collapsing on the bench in exhaustion with pain tearing into his sides for each breath he drew. He called for Mia; and Justin too, but his cries echoed through the chapel and died away. Even Saint Imil treated him with a disappointed look that day, standing firm behind the altar with his sword and spear…

Alex buried his face deeper into the bottom of the hood of his cloak, his breath visible in the air as he neared the camp.

What was his place in the world, now that his ties to the Clan of Mercury had been severed? He didn't know. Before he arrived in Imil he was a street urchin. And after that, he thought succeeding his uncle as High Priest was his destiny…

Thrice.

He had to face her thrice before finally leaving everything he knew and loved behind.

After rebuilding his resolve in Imil's Sanctuary, he claimed a new weapon, saddled Stormwind, and rode back to the Lighthouse. He had to stop Mia and Menardi from fighting. Even though he didn't doubt Mia's fighting prowess, she'd never sparred against another Adept besides _him_.

Alas, his arrival was late. The beacon burned brightly and the deed was done.

Menardi was done with the tower and leaving, dragging a reluctant Felix behind her with Felix's sister spouting threats behind. They were a good way into the narrow forest trail when he caught up with them on Stormwind and blocked their path.

"Oh, it's _you_ again," said Menardi, lowering her glaive and shaking her head. "What do you want?"

"Where is Mia?" he asked flatly.

"At the Lighthouse," replied Menardi, equally emotionless.

He noticed Saturos missing from the group.

"Where is Saturos?" he asked.

"At the Lighthouse!" replied Felix, jerking his hand free from Menardi's grasp. The Earth Adept stumbled up to Stormwind's side and gave Alex a pleading look. "Alex, we have to go back and save him!"

"He's a _champion duellist_," said Menardi. "You should worry about your friends instead."

"You _know_ he only fights in controlled environments regulated by strict rules!"

"He defied my orders and he has himself to blame for his death."

"How cold." Felix's sister scoffed at Menardi. "I thought he was your ally," she said.

"I have no sympathy for fools." The northlander pointed an accusing finger at the girl's haughty grin. "Of course, _you_ want me to go back, you little schemer. I haven't even dealt with _you_ yet."

Alex sighed and shook his head.

"I'll fetch him," he said, casting a glance back at the Lighthouse.

"Do whatever you want," replied Menardi. "You're dead to me."

Alex winced at the sound of her last words.

"I'll go with you!" said Felix, reaching out a hand up towards Alex with a concerned look. Alex gave him an appreciative nod and took his hand, helping the Earth Adept up behind him on Stormwind. They were about to leave when Felix's sister suddenly let out a gasp and fell to her knees on the snow with a ghastly glow of magic fading around her.

"Jenna!" said Felix, as his sister passed out in Menardi's arms.

The northlander calmly hoisted the girl up on her shoulders.

"I do not keep any promises to the dead, Felix," she said, speaking slowly so the words could sink in. "_Remember_ that."

Felix froze, conflicted over the position he'd been put in, but he kept his peace as Alex rode towards the lighthouse.

Coloured lights erupted behind the walls and cast eerie glows on the tower. Red flames and blue lights. Nearing the imminent danger, Alex felt his friend tighten his grip around his waist. He clutched his spear and rode to the side of the wall, stopping to let Felix dismount.

"Stay," Alex told his friend. He then pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. "Please," he added before braving the gates.

Stormwind's hooves splashed against water in the ward and Alex found Saturos on the floor, having lost the fight. Mia stood in a strange rigid position on the field with eerie blue light shining around her. Her feet didn't touch the floor but formed ripples in the water anyway. Her bloodstained robes and loose hair floated weightlessly and her face was blank. As the glow of magic faded and the water turned to mist, Mia fell to the floor like a marionette without strings.

Alex rode in, slowing Stormwind to keep her from slipping on the tiles as she rounded Saturos's body. He pointed at the fallen Adept with his spear, made an upwards motion, and lifted the northlander straight up in the air with magic. As he rode in and caught the body on the saddle, he glanced towards Mia, who sat on her knees and hands and stared back in shock. Tears filled her eyes, and she opened and closed her mouth to form a silent "no". Even with the mist shrouding the environment, she recognized him. Even with his hood pulled over his head, she knew it was _him_.

Alex turned Stormwind around and left the tower, riding back to the patch of snow where Felix stood waiting. He pushed Saturos down right in front of the Earth Adept, raised his spear, and used Psynergy once more. Mist briefly shrouded his allies and then they quickly faded away into the environment.

"Don't move," he told Felix as the Earth Adept vanished into the landscape. "Stay quiet—"

He couldn't finish before a shard of ice cut through the air and pushed the hood off his head, setting his hair loose in the wind. Not moving a muscle, he gazed back towards Mia from the corner of his eye.

Mia approached him slowly; carefully. She was incapable of speaking, but she repeatedly mouthed the word "why" as tears streamed down her cheeks and glued stray strands of hair to her face.

Seconds passed like years. Minutes passed like eternities. The snow fell thicker as she neared him. He clutched the spear, lifting his head to face her. Mouthing a silent "sorry", he turned Stormwind around and rode away.

The second meeting occurred at the crossroad in the middle of the night.

He had ridden through town and aimed a spell at the city wall in the west, painting a message to her in frost. Patiently, he waited at the crossroads on top of the hill with his lantern in hand. He knew she would come. She would come for _him_. He didn't care if she brought Oleg, Igor or even the entire squad to capture him. He wanted a chance to explain, and words could not describe the joy in his heart when he saw her coming from the distance, her staff shining like a beacon on the highway. He lifted the lantern to the level of his face and steeled himself for the meeting. He anticipated anger, but he didn't expect Mia to outright murder him on the spot.

The moment her deadly spell flashed in the darkness, his lantern crashed to the snow. Sweeping a wide circle in the air with his spear, he deflected her rain of icicles with his shield. But her ice javelin pierced his chest, knocked him off his horse, and sent him rolling down the snowy hill.

She knew him too well.

Like a pathetic lowlife standing before the god of justice, he grabbed his spear at the bottom of the hill and crawled away, clutching a healing hand over the gaping hole in his chest. His limbs became heavy as all his energy was drawn towards the centre of his body to mend the fatal wound. Even so, he willed a second spell forth to conceal the traces he left behind. When he finally reached the woods, he was exhausted beyond belief and could only hope that she wouldn't find him before dawn.

And at dawn he would confront her for one last time.

She didn't give up searching for him throughout the night, and she was riding along the bottom of the hill on Pilgrim, leading Stormwind behind. The sight of her tattered robes and the dark stain on the back of her cloak was an awful sight. Alex knew Saturos was a duellist, but he didn't strike him as a person who duelled people to death. On the other hand, judging from Mia's treatment of him last night, Saturos might have dealt that blow out of self-perseverance.

He stepped out from the woods, and he called for her.

The look when she saw him with the bloodstained coat, he couldn't take it. Even after all she'd done, he still wanted to run back to her and be the diligent priest she'd wanted him to be.

"Have you gone _mad_?" She yelled at him, eyes bloodshot and tears streaking her face. "Do you understand what you've done? Do you even _know_ what evil forces you've unleashed?"

She shrieked. Like a banshee, she shrieked. Standing in front of the woods, he lifted his head and gazed up towards her. To stand before her like this when she was upset was unnerving. He couldn't find the courage to raise his voice against her, but he didn't have to.

Shaking his head, he mouthed a simple "no" and then said:

"I've given back the world one of its cornerstones. I've succeeded where our ancestors have failed."

A bright light flashed and a javelin of ice materialized in her right hand. She gripped it tightly, and tears of anger streamed down her face like rivers.

"You—were—meant—to—defend—_the beacon_," she spoke behind clenched teeth. "_We_ were meant to protect the great monument. We were sworn to—"

"Even after the Mercury Lighthouse supplied you with limitless Psynergy, you still don't see the truth?" He whispered in return. "Our oaths are nothing but a farce."

"_Psynergy_," she said with a chuckle, briefly averting her eyes. "So that's what you call our powers now."

"Yes, it is the proper terminology. You and I, we're both members of the Mercury Clan, Masters of Water Psynergy."

She stared at him in silence.

"I have seen the world," he continued, his voice still low like a whisper. "I've met people. I have researched the past. And I've found the truth." He raised his free hand to the level of his chest, beckoning. "As Imil's chosen, we are meant to be more than just pawns in someone else's scheme."

"Scheme? You call our _sacred duty _a _scheme _and our oaths a_ farce_?"

"Yes. That's exactly what it is."

She shook her head and looked away, laughing.

"Hah-ha-ha… You let these warlocks into the Lighthouse, effectively helping them in a nefarious plot of releasing the dark forces our ancestors sealed away to prevent the world's destruction. And you have the gall to call _me_ a pawn."

She paused and then stared right into his eyes, knitting her eyebrows together and baring her teeth.

"I thought you were abducted," she said, her voice quivering with rage. "I thought you had _reasons_. If I'd known you've turned to evil, I would've aimed higher last night."

He looked away with a sardonic smile.

"No one wakes up one morning and decides to become evil, Mia. Our actions might reflect self-interest and greed… but no one sees themselves as _evil_ unless they're completely mad. Success or failure… regardless, we're all heroes of our own stories."

"Then how do you reckon the end of our tragedy?"

"_Our_ tragedy?" he asked, chuckling. "Not _mine_—?"

"_Yes,_" she said, readjusting her grip on the javelin. "After I've vindicated the name of the clan, Alex, I will take my own life as atonement for my failure."

His breath hitched at the sound of those words and he lifted his gaze to look at her unfeeling eyes. Atonement. He exhaled. She said she'd offer up her life as atonement for _failing to defend the beacon_. Did she honestly think he'd believe that lie?

"You're a fool, Mia," he said, gripping his spear. He looked down to Pilgrim's hooves and shook his head. "You're a fool. There's more than just watch duty in life. Don't let—"

"Yes, _you_ were my life!" She snapped at him, silencing him with her angry and wounded tone. As he lifted his head to look her in the eyes, she lowered her voice to a mere whisper. "My hopes, my dreams, my life, my world. _Hf_… _you_ were my world, Alex." She paused again and readjusted her grip on the javelin one more time. "Any last words?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head. Her javelin soared through the air seconds thereafter.

* * *

The sun stood high when he finally brought the buckets of water back to the camp. Trouble seemed to be brewing around the fire—there was a gathering there. Alex stepped towards the crowd but suddenly heard one of the animals snort loudly. Turning his head sideways, he found eight horses standing near the road. A particular brown mare with dark mane caught his eye since he the recognized the white star on her face and the chipped right ear.

"_Pilgrim_?"

He approached the horse cautiously in surprise, putting the buckets aside on the ground. He brushed back his hair and reached out towards the animal's face. The horse snorted but nuzzled his hand. Alex brushed the fur around the horse's right eye, catching a glimpse of the scar beneath.

"It _is_ you…" he said with a smile. "But if you're here—"

"Do you have a _deathwish_?" a voice then suddenly hissed from behind.

Felix's hand hooked around Alex's arm and he dragged the Water Adept away from the animals and back behind the carriages. His gloves were gone, his sleeves were rolled up and his pale hands were still wet from hastily leaving his chores of doing laundry or dishes.

"There's a _manhunt_ for you!" said Felix, dragging Alex around the outskirts of the camp, his grip firm enough to bruise the mender's arm.

Arriving at the back of a large supply carriage, Felix flipped up the blankets covering the top of the stacked barrels and crates, and then opened the back of the carriage with shaky hands. Jenna and Saturos already sat on each side in the hollowed out space between the supplies, eating porridge from wooden bowls.

"_Get in!_" said Felix. "If the soldiers recognize your face not even _I_ will be able to save you!"

He gave Felix an incredulous shake with his head but obediently threw his spear on the carriage and climbed in, seating next to Saturos. Felix's sister grinned, chipping in with another snide comment:

"Menardi will hand your ass over if your girlfriend sees you."

Alex said nothing, but he knew the girl was right. He was irrelevant to the quest, practically on his own. The only thing standing between him and a slow death in the wilderness was Felix.

It was Felix. It was Felix who dyed his hair, dressed him unrecognizable and looked out for him. It was Felix who constantly asked what plans he had and where he planned to go. It was Felix. It was always Felix. The rest of the pack wouldn't even notice if he fell off the carriage and into a ditch.

_Tock-tock._

Seeing the warm food Felix had pushed into the carriage, Jenna hurried to take the bowl and sneer:

"Thanks, brother."

"You know for whom it is," said Felix.

"_Tch_, Alex doesn't—"

"Don't say his name _for heaven's sake_! The soldiers are still searching the camp."

"_Oh_." Jenna grinned and lifted the bowl of porridge towards Alex. "Sorry, here's your meal. _Hubert_."

"Hubert?" Alex chuckled, taking the bowl. He could hear the pots and pans scrambling outside as Felix went back to his chores.

"If you prefer Ilya, Gleb or Boris—" began Saturos.

"Hubert is fine," said Alex.

"Hubert is great," Jenna added with a grin.

"Indeed." Alex smiled. "Did you know it means 'bright heart'?"

"You just pulled that out of nowhere, didn't you?"

"I'm a learned man. People used to ask me for suggestions when picking names for their child."

"Fun. Then, what does Felix's name mean?"

"Lucky and successful. It fits your brother well, considering his talents and gifts."

"Hm, what about _his_ name?" Jenna pointed at Saturos. "Where does _that_ come from?"

"He's probably named after Saturnus, the Ancient Mage who won five consecutive battles in-"

"I was named after Satyrus the _Grand Architect,"_ said the blind man, coughing, "and he participated in an impressive amount of _zero_ battles, thank you very much."

Alex shrugged and scooped up food with the spoon, beginning to eat. After a while he turned around to peek through the gaps between the wood, trying to catch a glimpse of Mia and the Imilian Watch, but realized that Jenna's side was facing the camp.

"I don't get it," said Felix's sister, once again breaking the silence. "What's your deal?"

Alex lifted his gaze towards her.

"Yes, _you_. I'm still talking to you, Hubert."

Alex swallowed the food in his mouth and lowered the bowl.

"Mind to specify the question?"

"My brother is a slave," said Jenna, earning herself a tired groan from Saturos, "but why are _you_ in on this?"

"Glory?" he replied with a slight smile.

"Glory? _Hah!_ You can't even feed _my brother_ that lie." Jenna laughed and folded her arms over her chest. She then lifted her head and looked down on him in delusion of authority. "I know who you are," she said. "You're the High Priest of Imil and the _Patriarch_ of the Mercury Clan."

Alex held Jenna's gaze in silence with a blank expression. He hadn't actually told anyone besides Menardi of his true identity, but he didn't expect it to stay secret after the trip to Imil either.

"You had your people's respect and admiration. You had followers and power. You even had a girl waiting for you at home. Why would you throw all of that away?"

He cast a look towards the spear lying next to him on the bottom of the carriage. Knowing that Felix's sister was looking for a way to make a fool of him and his convictions, he closed his mouth and shook his head.

"Fine, then I'll guess," said Jenna. "Menardi and Her Merry Men promised you a huge chunk of wealth for the favour."

Saturos stifled a laugh.

"No? Then I guess it means you've been promised your own domain to rule if the conquest of the world succeeds."

Saturos let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead.

"Unlimited power. Eternal life. Divinity. You lost someone dear to you, so you want to bring back the dead."

Alex pressed a palm to his face, shaking his head. Entertaining Felix's sister was starting to wear on his mind.

"You're just bored now, aren't you?" said Saturos. "Why don't you help Felix do the dishes instead? The air is bad enough without your poisonous breath."

Alex put his food away and rose to open the top of the trailer, pushing away the cloth and furs covering them. His legs were suddenly kicked away from under him, resulting in a clumsy fall to the bottom of the trailer with a loud _ka-dunk!_

He instantly heard Felix drop his chores and before Alex could even sit up, Felix spoke with a panicked voice:

"No no no, not the supplies!"

"What about them?" said Igor.

"It took me an hour to squeeze everything in. Don't mess it up."

"_Hah!_ Don't worry. I'll just have a quick look."

Alex could see Felix's sister grin and point at him meaningfully, but he drew his Psynergy and whispered "Conceal", shrouding the group in mist before Igor lifted the blanket covering the back of the carriage with his spear.

"Are you done?" asked Felix.

Igor turned back to Felix with a suspicious look and began opening the back of the trailer. Saturos quickly grabbed Alex and shoved him into Jenna's arms, pushing himself in front of them and placing his hands on each side of the walls of supplies. The moment Igor lowered the gate Saturos felled the front row of barrels and crates with his Psynergy, sending them tumbling into the watchman's face.

"_See?_" said Felix, gesturing hysterically with his arms. "I told you! Why didn't you listen? Now I have to clean this up! _Oh gods_, look at this! You broke it! It's _broken!_ Who's going to pay for this? _You _or your leader? _Who?_"

His tantrum sent Igor limping back to the gathering in shame. Afterwards, Felix lifted the blanket and poked his head in, his breath ragged from screaming.

"Jenna, get out and help me clean up this mess," he said, staring at his sister with an angry look.

"But I'm keeping an eye on _him_," replied Jenna innocently. Alex cringed as she clamped her arms around his shoulders and brushed her face against the back of his head.

"_Out_," drawled Felix.

"Fine." Jenna huffed and threw Alex to the floor, spluttering and wiping her lips. As she got out of the trailer, Alex noticed that his hair had marked her face with thin streaks of black and she began questioning what Felix used as dye.

Alex sat up and peeked through the gaps between the crates, finally spotting Mia at the campfire. She spoke to Menardi and one of the older men from the fishing village up north, seemingly apologizing for Igor's blunder and paying for the ruined supplies. Her long beautiful hair was wound up in a thick bun on her head and she held her helmet under her arm. She still wore part of her priestess's regalia, but most of it was covered up with armour.

Oleg rose to his feet, extending a hand towards Mia. She handed over her drinking cup and then shook hands with Menardi and the village elders. The rest of her squad finally returned from searching the camp, shaking their heads. Mia rose to her feet and strode back to her horse with her squad following behind. They mounted their steeds and moments later, the Imilian Watch had ridden away.

"It's safe," said Felix, finally letting Alex out.

Alex retrieved his spear and climbed off the trailer, drawing a breath of fresh air. From the side of the road, he could see Mia's squad riding westward with the highway smoking behind.

He wondered to where Menardi had sent Mia off to. It was quite ridiculous for the Commander herself to go on a manhunt after a helpless priest when she should be worrying about the safety of the city. The deed was done. Even if she killed him and killed herself afterwards, the deed was done.

This world, it was theirs to save or to destroy. The gods, they had abandoned this world. The Saints, their time ended a millennium ago.

When the world fell into ruin and heroes were needed, Saint Imil rose to the call.

Saint Imil, with a spear of light, he sealed Alchemy away and ended the wars.

Saint Imil, with will of steel, he convinced the Mercury Clan to defend the construction of the beacon.

Saint Imil, courageous and wise, he put his faith in his descendants, who didn't believe in themselves…

And so, many generations wasted away, as the Lights were forgotten by time.

Now, as Weyard neared its brink of destruction again, heroes were needed once more.

Alex gripped his spear, stroking the inscription on the blade as the white tattered ribbon beneath the spearhead billowed in the rising wind.

His spear—Saint Imil's spear—one of the temple's relics and a priceless treasure to the clan. He didn't think of its significance when he first pulled it from Saint Imil's hand. Back then, he just needed a weapon quickly and any weapon would do.

But as he watched the trail of smoke on the road fade in the distance, he wondered if his possession of the spear hadn't been the will of fate.

He was willing to die for his deeds when Mia confronted him, he truly was. But if his escape could give _her_ a purpose to live on, then he would fight to the end to see the final light.

As Imil's heir, he would succeed where his predecessors have failed.

As a hero, he would restore Weyard's crumbling foundations and mend the world.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

Why would Alex sit and watch the fight on the lighthouse in the game? Because, he's just there to deliver exposition and get Saturos's out of danger. Still, doesn't that look suspicious from Felix's team's point of view? Even if he chose to stay behind at first, shouldn't he start helping out with the fight when things start going to _shit_? Seriously, the reason Alex could trick anyone in the game is because the whole world goes full stupid whenever he's on screen.

If I had him watch the fight in this story, I'd also have to kill him off by the end of the Mercury Lighthouse ordeal. So instead, he wasn't even there when the fight happened.

Alex also only speaks the exposition to Mia, because she's the only person who's relevant. He's also in trouble because now he can't show his face in the north and Mia _will_ ride south in a hunt after him.

Mia also didn't join Isaac and Garet at this point of this story, because why would she? It's very unlikely that she'll travel alone with these three losers that she essentially doesn't know. Nope, she brings her own team instead. They _will_ become a team, eventually, but not yet.

You might be asking why Alex didn't just teleport out of danger. Well,_can_ he even teleport at all?


	15. – Partings and Reunions

**I**t was the middle of November. The evening passed slowly and light rain fell over the Bilibian woodlands.

It had been almost two weeks since the escape from Imil and thankfully they had managed to dodge both monsters and the guards. Felix was growing more and more anxious each passing day. Word had spread about his thievery in Vale and there was a hefty bounty on his head. It wasn't serious enough for people to outright arm themselves and go looking for him, but Jenna was sure that kind of money would entice people to try capturing him if they recognized his face on the highway.

Why Menardi kept sending him out to scout ahead was a mystery. Shouldn't the damned witch try protecting her brother if he was a valuable asset to her "warband"? She looked at Felix, the brother whose face she barely recognized. He gripped his sword tightly, his eyes were bloodshot and wide, and paranoia overtook him every time they headed out alone to gather firewood.

"I think we have enough wood," said Jenna, showing Felix the armful of branches and twigs. "We can go back."

Felix nodded silently, gripping his fancy sword with both hands. That stupid sword. He treated it as a treasure even though he couldn't use it properly. No one was teaching him. Turned out the stupid swordsman in the group who beat up highwaymen demanding tolls on bridges was just a hobbyist and not a real warrior. When he finally had to fight someone who actually fought back on the Mercury Lighthouse he barely escaped with his life.

Felix was just wasting his time. Felix was wasting _Jenna's_ time. What was he waiting for? Who was going to stop him if he tried to leave? Saturos? He was blind. What could he do? He was so helpless that he had to hand over his duties to Felix. Alex the pansy? _Right_. He had a massive bounty on his head and couldn't even show his face in the north. Felix had to go out of his way to hide and protect him. Menardi?

Yes, the witch. The only thing that stood between her and her brother was the witch. The only reason Jenna overlooked her was because she never saw Menardi fight. Saturos always stepped up and duelled the bandits and sent them packing. He made it look so easy that Jenna thought he was the best fighter in the group. The truth was that he was a wayward blacksmith looking for adventure. The witch didn't go looking for fights, but she carried a seven feet long battlefield weapon. She led the scouts ahead to clear the way for the rest of the caravan. And seeing that Felix reported to her, Jenna realized that Menardi was the true leader of the troupe.

As Jenna followed Felix through the woods and back to the camp, they passed the waters coursing through the Bilibian lands. She couldn't help but stop and stare at the rapids, remembering that fateful night she lost her family. She gripped the stack of wood tightly, staring at the foaming waves. Tears clouded her vision. She wondered if Felix remembered the night they were separated. She wondered if he remembered how he'd sacrificed himself for her when he asked Isaac to save her first.

That night they both fell off the bridge during the chaotic evacuation. Isaac's father had jumped after them in attempt to rescue them. Jenna could remember her Uncle Kyle grabbing her and holding her head above the water. The water splashed against her face and the wind chilled her to the bones. Uncle Kyle tried to swim towards the riverbank with her, but the current kept pulling them downstream. Then, they crashed into a rock and were separated. Her Uncle Kyle let out a muffled cry and then he vanished into the darkness and Jenna was left to struggle in the water alone. Luckily, a saviour managed to grab her wrist and halted her journey further down the rapids.

"Help—" Jenna heard a weak voice cry. "Help—_Aaah!_"

She looked up, barely recognizing her brother's high pitched scream before a huge tree suddenly fell into the river right in front of the slippery rock Felix was clinging to. Felix began praying to Saints, begging the divines for help. And finally, they sent him a saviour.

"_Felix!_" Isaac called out through the darkness, his voice drawing closer as the tree creaked. "_Here_, take my hand!"

She couldn't see her friend at all, but his voice came from the crown of the fallen tree. Felix tugged Jenna towards him with difficulty, but he didn't have the strength to pull her up. He shook and let out a pained gasp—his grip on the rock becoming harder to maintain each passing second.

"_Jenna!_" said Felix, screaming and crying at the same time. "Climb me to safety!"

The stiff fingers around Jenna's wrist began to slip, but even then she didn't move—she was frozen in fear. She heard the leaves of the tree rustle and the branches creak and crack as the crown sank deeper into the river.

"Felix, give me your hand!" Isaac desperately yelled towards them. He hadn't realized that Felix was only holding onto the rock with one hand. "_Felix, please!_"

"_I can't!_" Felix screamed back in anguish and pain. "Jenna, _please!_ I can't pull you up!"

Her brother's desperate cry made her snap to attention. Finally, she let out a sob and obeyed Felix's command. She wrapped her frail and frigid arms around her brother's body and slowly pulled herself towards the tree where Isaac supposedly waited. She couldn't see Isaac. She could barely hear him with the water splashing against head. All she saw was a huge black shadow in the night.

"Jenna! _Here!_" said Isaac.

The tree creaked again, and finally Isaac's fingers wrapped around her wrist. He pulled her towards the tree and then another person took hold of her and lifted her up from the waves.

"I've got you, my girl," said her beloved father with a quivering voice, "you're safe."

"D-dad—"

"_Shh_…" The father gave her a firm hug, and then told her to stay put. He held onto Isaac, who lowered himself into the water towards Felix.

"_Felix!_" yelled Isaac. "Give me your hand!"

Felix didn't respond and his grip on the rock slipped. Jenna clung onto the tree as her father placed her on the large branch. The father desperately willed his Psynergy forth and gestured with his free hand, trying to scoop Felix up from the river, but his spell failed and his intervention caused Felix to lose his hold on the rock instead. The brother slipped soundlessly under the waters and vanished among the waves. Jenna and her father could only stare at the river in shock while Isaac repeatedly screeched Felix's name into the night.

Then, yet another tremor shook the earth and the tree was pulled into the river, throwing Jenna into the rapids once more.

Jenna couldn't remember how she got back to the village or how she survived the accident. Garet later told her he found her lying next to Isaac on the riverbank and that he carried them back to the village with difficulty.

When she woke up, she was in Kay's bed, with Isaac was sitting on a stool next to her. Isaac's eyes were bloodshot and his face was blank. He was so heartbroken that even her awakening couldn't offer him relief. Of course, she didn't even _try_ giving her beloved friend any relief. She pelted him with painful questions of her family members' whereabouts. After being told the truth, she furiously lashed out at him, first calling him a liar, and then blaming him for Felix's death.

It took both Garet and Kay to restrain her and even then, she gave Isaac a bad bruise on the face. They didn't talk to each other for weeks. And when all the villagers gathered by the river to pay respects to the dead, Isaac was incredibly bitter about the whole situation. He even screamed at Garet and Kay, telling them to leave him alone and take their damn pity with them.

So many people died and were wounded in the tempest. So much property was destroyed by the landslide. Several homes in the west were ruined, but ironically, Jenna's family home was spared from the storm.

Jenna returned to her everyday life eventually, but she couldn't go back to her house and instead moved in with her loving grandparents. They were old and needed someone to look after them soon anyway. She couldn't go back to her family home and be constantly reminded of everything she'd lost. It was enough that everyone gave her looks of pity and talked about what a great loss Felix and Uncle Kyle's deaths were for Vale.

Her grandparents decided to donate most of the family's possessions. Jenna tried not to cry as she returned to the house to retrieve her personal belongings. She tried not to feel bitter when her family friends showed up to take what used to be her mother and father's stuff.

Yet, tears pricked her eyes when her grandparents locked the front door for good. As she crossed the bridge her eyes played tricks on her mind, showing her phantom images of her mother sitting on the veranda sewing another dress and her brother reading his precious books. And every morning she drove the sheep to the hills with her father's herding staff, she would sometimes still hear his jokes and words of wisdom even though he no longer was there.

"Jenna? _Jenna!_"

Jenna jumped and almost dropped the bundle of wood in her arms, quickly spinning around to see her living and grown brother staring back at her with an annoyed stare.

"Are you done daydreaming again?" said Felix, giving her a cold and annoyed look. "We have to bring the wood back to the camp."

Daydreaming. Jenna clenched her teeth and stared back at her brother. Her distaste for his despicable look doubled. She hated him. Hated the way he treated his dumb sword and warhorn like treasures. Hated his tattered cloak, and his mud-coloured clothing. Hated his _shit-covered_ face and his _fake_ hair.

This was her brother. This was Felix. This was what Sweet Felix had become—a lowlife thief. And she hated him.

"Jenna?" said Felix again, watching her intently. His expression suddenly softened and he looked worried.

She gripped the stack of wood tighter as Felix threw his own pile on the ground and strode over to put his hands on Jenna's upper arms.

"Jenna, what's wrong?" He spoke softly, almost whispering with his ever so tender voice. And it made Jenna's blood boil, and warm tears blurred her vision once more.

Why? Why couldn't he commit to being a scourge of the earth? Why did he have to tempt her with hope of that he could still be saved when his decision was absolute?

She turned away from him for a moment and back towards the river, and suddenly spotted a blond-haired figure clad in bright blue clothes standing on the other side.

Isaac.

"Jenna?" whispered Felix again.

"Fe-fe-felix…" said Jenna, shakily dropping the pile of wood aside and stepping towards the rapids.

Isaac hadn't seen her yet. He seemed to be washing something in the river.

"I—Isaac!" Jenna finally called out, but Isaac didn't hear her. "_Isaac!_"

Another blond figure then stepped out of the woods wearing a green cloak and a yellow scarf. Isaac pulled the cloth he was washing out of the river and wrenched the water out. He then stood up and turned to the shorter blond who was wearing his scarf. Isaac treated his new friend so sweetly, petting her hair and reaching out to let her hold his hand. And not only did she take it, she also leant against his arm.

"_ISAAC!_" Jenna yelled again, but the distance was too great. "ISAAC! I'M _HERE_! ISAAC, ARE YOU DEAF? I'M HERE, ISAAC, ARE YOU_ BLIND?_"

Warm tears traced cold paths on Jenna's cheeks. Who the hell was this other person? _A new girl?_ Was this why Isaac took so long to catch up to the thieves? Was this why he was on the wrong side of the river? Her breath hitched, and her mouth opened and closed soundlessly in anger and disbelief.

She spun around, looking back to Felix too see her brother frozen in shock, his face blank and pale. He staggered aside, his foothold unsure and he stumbled to lean against a nearby tree for support. A hand flew up to cover the bottom of his face, and he breathed in short gasps.

Why, Felix, _why?_ Jenna clenched her teeth as she stared at her brother's pathetic posture. Why was he scared? Isaac was a beloved and trusted friend!

They shouldn't be here. They should be with Isaac on the other side! Her gaze landed on the warhorn hanging from Felix's belt. She held her breath. And then she lunged and tried taking it from her brother.

"Give me that!" she hissed, yanking at the warhorn, but it was tied to his belt with a ribbon. Felix whimpered and tried to stop her weakly but she knocked his hands away and drew his rapier, using it to cut the ribbon. Before Felix could utter a single word, Jenna trudged as far she could into the river without slipping and then blew the horn.

_WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOOOLOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_

Isaac stopped and turned back to the river, finally noticing Jenna on the other side. He began waving his hands to her but she couldn't hear a single word he said due to the rapids and the distance. She waved back and blew the horn again, tears starting to clog her nose as she watched Isaac plunge his boots into the river. The petite blonde girl tried to stop him, but he swatted her hands away and continued his way out into the waters. Isaac was coming to her, wasn't he? Jenna let out a noise that sounded more like a sad cackle than a joyful laugh. She took another step into the cold water which now was up to her waist. Isaac was a great swimmer… he could make it to the other side, _right_?

"_Contigo's tits!_" A voice suddenly shrieked from behind and a hand then seized the back of her collar.

"Let go!" said Jenna, instantly trying to shove an elbow into Menardi's face, but she missed and the witch wrapped her arms around her body. The warhorn fell into the water and quickly drifted away in the rapids.

"Let me go!" Jenna screamed. She tried shaking herself free but the witch held on tightly and slowly dragged her back towards land.

The witch screamed in her ear about the current and the width of the river, but Jenna refused to listen. She was so close to being reunited with Isaac. She couldn't give this up. And why the hell was she being stopped now? The witch seemed perfectly fine to let her go back to Isaac at the Mercury Lighthouse!

"Let go, _bitch!_ Let me go! _Argh!_"

Menardi finally hoisted her up from the water, throwing her on the ground. Jenna cried out as she landed on a couple of sharp rocks. She wiped the snot and tears from her nose and stared back at the witch. Seeing Felix's discarded rapier on the ground, her hand flew towards it, but Menardi stepped on the blade.

"Don't even try that on me."

Jenna sobbed uncontrollably, snot and tears dripping from her nose and chin. Her hands clawed at the ground and her fingers closed around stray twigs and dried leaves. She furiously turned back to Menardi and threw the dirty leaves towards her face, but they scattered and barely hit the bottom of her chest.

"I hate you…" Jenna wheezed. "_I hate you!" _she yelled at Menardi._ "_You better kill me now or I'll murder you in your sleep! _Tonight!_"

The witch stared back at her with a stone cold expression, her foot still on the rapier. She looked over to Felix, who now was sitting on the ground and crying into his hands.

"It's at least sixhundred feet across. _Look_ at the current. Foolish girl... You want to swim? Do it where the water is calm."

"Why do _you_ care what happens to _me?_" shrieked Jenna in wild fury. "You didn't give a crap about Saturos at the lighthouse and you were about to feed Alex to the wolves! So why do you care if _I_ go for a swim in the river?"

Jenna shook with rage, but she noticed the twitch in Menardi's expression. The witch looked once more towards Felix and then finally removed her foot from the rapier. Jenna immediately raised it, pointing it towards Menardi's chest, but the witch turned away from her.

"I've had enough," said the witch, directing those words to Felix.

"Menardi—"

"I'm done with charity," said the witch lowly. "I'm done with watching the abuse of my warband. If you don't make her behave by the end of the day—_I _will arrange it so she disappears."

Jenna lunged at the witch with the sword but the blade was stopped by a force of energy, as if someone had caught the blade in midair. Menardi looked over her shoulder and gave Jenna a tired sigh. With the blink of an eye, she yanked the sword forward with her spell and dragged Jenna to the ground.

Jenna lifted her face from the earth. She cried bitterly and shakily propped herself up on her hands and feet. Menardi was already gone when she looked back.

On the other side of the river, Isaac was having a fistfight with Garet and he wasn't winning. After getting knocked to the ground, Isaac broke the fight off by drawing his knife. The petite girl grabbed his arm, shaking her head and begging him to stop. Garet backed off, but pointed at the river and then at the side of his head, gesturing wildly. Jenna looked at the coursing waters and bit down her lip. Isaac lowered his knife. He then stood up, turned towards Jenna and waved his arms, pointing down along the river. Jenna still couldn't hear a word of what he said.

A warm cloak then covered her shoulders, but she punched Felix in the face in retaliation.

"It's _your fault!_" She screamed at her brother. "If you didn't run away on the Mercury Lighthouse this would all have been over already! If you didn't run away, we'd be home by now!"

Felix gave her his sad and beaten expression again. Then he covered his mouth and nose with his hands and kept crying. Jenna angrily grabbed his ponytail and yanked his dumb extensions off, throwing the hair into the river. Felix slowly raised his hand to the back of his head, his eyes rolling in his skull but his face frozen in shock.

"I hate you…" said Jenna, her voice shaking with anger and hurt. "_I hate you!"_ she then yelled. "Why can't you be the way you used to be? Why can't you be my brother? I just want my brother back! You're my only family! You're all I have!"

Felix stood still for a moment and wiped his tears. He bit down his lower lip.

"Jenna…" he then said. "Listen. I'm going to tell you—"

"No, _shut up!_" Jenna screamed, putting her hands over her ears and shaking her head. "I don't want more of your dumb excuses! I can't believe you. I can't believe you'd do this to me. I followed you around for months. I thought that deep down you were still my brother Felix. But you're not! You're just a shell of him! It doesn't matter how long I stay here. You're not coming back. Because you're _dead_. _You're dead inside._"

Felix swallowed and inhaled deeply.

"Jenna, listen. Our parents—"

"_Would be ashamed of you if they were alive!_" said Jenna, shoving Felix back. She tore the ragged cloak away from her shoulder and threw it in the river too. "You were destined to be the leader of our people! You were one of the most talented Adepts ever! The Saints chose you as a defender of the world! _Hf_… And look at you! Look at what you've become! You're a witch's apprentice! You're a slave! I tried to free you but you're a willing slave! I wanted to protect you. I wanted to bring you back and clear your name but—_Hf_…"

Her gaze flicked on the stupid sword. The stupid sword. Felix didn't wield a sword. Felix wielded a brush. Felix wasn't a soldier. Felix was a scribe!

She grabbed the rapier again but Felix lunged towards her with his arms held wide apart, trying to stop her from going into the river. Jenna turned around and ran back into the woods. She could hear her brother call her name; he could hear his apologies, his begging and wailing but she didn't stop until she plunged her boots into a mossy swamp.

Felix's footsteps had died away—his endurance was terrible as always, but Jenna was running out of breath too. She looked at the stupid sword in her hand and then chucked it into the swamp before trudging back to the camp. At least the thieves could stop making a fool out of her brother now when she'd gotten rid of both the sword and the horn.

Once Jenna got back to the camp, Menardi and the other thieves were nowhere seen, but she didn't care and went back to her tent. She slipped out of her wet clothing and pulling the blankets around herself, bitterly crying until she was asleep.

In the middle of the night, she woke up when she needed to pee and found someone's arm draped over her shoulders. She turned around to see Felix lying curled up next to her without any blankets at all. Oh no, he was freezing. Where was his cloak? And why didn't he just slip under the blankets with her? She sat up, but then realized she wasn't wearing any clothes. Looking aside, she found her dress and cape neatly folded next to her.

Right, she walked into the river. She had a horrible fight with Felix and she took her drenched clothes off to avoid getting sick. Felix probably dried them for her. She sighed and slipped the dress on, pulling the warm blanket around Felix before heading out to do her business. The campfire was lit and two refugees she didn't know the names of were keeping watch. Jenna could see them whisper and point at her direction as she left, wondering if Felix or the witch had told the entire caravan about the fight.

When she returned to the tent, she lay down next to her brother again, once again feeling torn about the horrible things she said to him earlier. Sighing, she nestled closely to Felix and draped the blankets over his shoulders, covering them both. She tucked an arm around him and brushed him comfortingly on the back.

Perhaps she went too far this time.

* * *

She woke up from the sound of the caravan packing up for departure. Sitting up, she found that Felix had risen early, which was quite unusual, but she assumed he was gone because he didn't want to be caught hugging Jenna in the morning.

It turned out Jenna had overslept, since the sun stood high on the afternoon sky and most people had finished packing. She went to the nearest refugee, a woman with blond braids hanging from the sides of her face, asking where Felix was. The young woman just gave her a frown, as if Jenna smelled bad.

"Why do you care where he went? Didn't you say you hate him?"

Jenna cursed inwardly. So the damn idiot told the whole caravan about the fight? This was a thing between the two of them—why did he have to tell the entire world about it?

"Just tell me where Felix is."

"I don't know where he is," replied the girl.

Jenna forced a grin to her lips.

"So, where's Menardi then?" she asked.

"Menardi? I heard from Matilda she left the caravan this morning after arming us with spears last night."

"What?"

"She had us gather scrap metals at evening and she later managed to produce two dozen spears for us out of nowhere."

"But what do you mean she left?"

"Didn't she tell you? We're going separate ways."

Jenna stared at the girl in confusion. Seeing one of the village elders behind her, Jenna pushed the girl out of her way and ran over to the old man, asking him where Felix and Menardi had gone.

The old man gave her a frown and told her Menardi's warband packed up and left at dawn.

"Without me?" said Jenna.

The elder laughed snidely.

"But Felix—"

"Oh, he specifically wanted to leave early. He told us to provide you with breakfast and tell you not to go after him."

She held her breath as the village elder told her to pack up, saying the rest of the people wouldn't put up with her nonsense like Menardi did—they would leave without her if she wasn't ready. Jenna ignored the warning, another wildfire rising in her gut as she realized Felix had deserted her.

"_Where_ did they go?" she asked, barely able to contain her rage as she grabbed the front of the man's shirt. "Where did Felix go?"

The old man glowered at her and shook his head. Jenna's eyes flashed and she shoved the man aside. She sprinted over to the remaining tents and the carriages, angrily searching the camp for Felix and the witch and ignoring the rest of the people.

"_Hey!_" said a woman when Jenna lifted the flap of her tent.

"Girl! What are you doing? _Girl!_" said a man when she jumped onto his carriage.

Other refugees saw her behaviour and became alarmed, but Jenna didn't care.

"_Felix!_ Get out!" she shouted, going through each of the carriages and tents. "I know you're hiding, you _coward!_ _Get out!_"

"He's not here! He left this morning!"

"_FELIX! Stop hiding! Get out! This joke isn't even funny—!_"

"He's _gone_, you crazy bitch!" One of the women finally grabbed Jenna, slapped her in the face, and then shoved her to the ground. "He left at the crack of dawn and left you behind! And who can blame him?"

Jenna angrily rose to her feet but a couple other refugees approached with quarter staves and spears, warning her from bothering the people.

"Your brother isn't here to protect you anymore," said the woman. "So you better behave or we'll leave you behind as well! You can start with packing up your stuff. If you're good, we'll feed you until we reach the city!"

Jenna clawed at the dirt as the small crowd dispersed. The refugees pointed and whispered as she crawled up to her feet. She cupped her aching cheek with a hand. That bitch. She hit her. Not even the damn witch and her cronies dared to hit Jenna. Who did that bitch think she was? Jenna slowly stomped back to her own tent. She let out a shriek and tore it down violently, throwing the tent cloth to the ground and leaving everything in a mess. She ground her heels against the dirt, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Felix... Jenna had felt bad for hurting him. She'd even thought of apologizing and making it up for him. But now she just wanted to stab him in the face! This was probably all some elaborate payback for the things she said yesterday. The refugees liked Felix, so maybe everyone had decided to collectively lie and punish Jenna for hurting him. Felix wouldn't leave her behind. He was her brother. They've had fought before and she knew Felix wasn't the kind of person to hold grudges. This whole thing was probably Menardi's idea to force Jenna into submission.

Jenna kicked the dirt and then turned away from the caravan, sprinting towards the river. She didn't need to take this. She didn't need to take orders from these helpless idiots who couldn't even defend their own village! She had Isaac. She had Garet. She didn't need these dumb farmers who needed an outlander to guide them all the way to the south!

Reaching the water, Jenna froze. She didn't really expect to find Isaac still standing near the river waiting for her, but she didn't expect to find Alex sitting there either.

The priest was kneeling at the riverbank and washing his face. He'd washed out the nasty black dye from his hair, but it seemed to have been permanently miscoloured. His natural blue colour shone through the remains of dye but it looked like he had washed his hair with mud no matter how she looked at it.

With anger still fresh on her mind, she sprinted over to Alex and kicked him on the back, almost launching him face first into the water.

"Where's Felix?" hissed Jenna, not waiting for the priest to recover before asking the question. Alex was Felix's new best buddy. If he was still around then Felix probably wasn't far away.

The blue-haired pansy gasped and caught his breath, turning around to gaze up towards Jenna in confusion.

"He was with you last night," replied Alex. "Why question _me_ about your brother's whereabouts?"

"Don't play dumb!" said Jenna, angrily pointing a finger at the Water Adept. "The villagers said Menardi and the rest packed up and left at the crack of dawn! Is this some insane joke you and Felix have orchestrated?"

Alex furrowed his brow and the pupils in his eyes travelled from one side to another. His perplexed expression told Jenna that the dumb priest had been duped too.

"Um…" began Alex, staring up at her like a little mouse corned by a wildcat.

"Shut up," said Jenna. He'd ditched Alex! Felix had ditched his new precious friend too!

"Um, Jenna… I think—"

"_Shut up!_"

Jenna drew her breath quickly, pacing back and forth and wrenching her hands. So Felix really ditched her. He left in the morning without a word. It was merely afternoon. He couldn't have gone far. She could probably still catch up if she ran after him really fast. But where could he have gone? To town of course! No, wait. Not town. Felix was a wanted criminal in these lands, he would probably skip town… _Where_ would he go? Was it even possible for her to find him again if he was intentionally hiding from her?

She cast a glance over to the other side of the river and set off like an arrow, running along the riverbank and following the stream.

Yes. She should find Isaac and Garet instead. If her brother didn't want her company then there was no reason for her to crawl back to him and ask for forgiving like an idiot. Tears began blurring her vision again and she angrily swore and blinked them away. If she just followed the river, she'll eventually find a bridge! All she wanted was to find Isaac and Garet, tell them what happened and then they'll together find Felix and punish him for all the pain and suffering he'd caused. He'll be _crying_ for mercy once she found him, the bastard. Not even the damn witch would be able to save him once Jenna had her friends backing her in a fight! They'd beat her up, take back the Elemental Stars and then literary _drag_ her back to Vale to face justice. And Felix, he… he can just go _die!_

As the worst of her anger faded, she slowed her running pace and finally stopped to catch her breath. Tears. More tears formed in her eyes and she inhaled loudly, bringing her hands to her face and sinking to the ground to cry freely now when no one was around to mock her weakness.

But _why_ was she crying? She wasn't _sad_. She was seething with _rage!_ Right? This was so unfair. She wasted away months of her life and bided her time for so long in hope of saving her brother. Cruelty, gentleness, guilt and duty to the family. She'd tried everything and all Felix could offer her was a beaten look and a no as answer. She should have known long ago that he was too far gone, but he was her brother—her only brother. He was the only close family she had left; she couldn't just give him up! And for all that effort, what did she get? A slap in the face and a handful of dirt! All this time… All this effort. All for naught.

She wiped her tears and blew her nose. She washed her face and hands in the river and then slowly staggered back to the camp.

The caravan had left and the camping place was nothing but an empty clearing in the woods. Even the tent she'd wrecked was gone—those people didn't leave her anything. Those refugees essentially left her to die in the wilderness. What kind of people were they to leave a girl alone in the woods with _nothing_?

She sighed and turned back to the river. She couldn't travel alone on the road with nothing. At least if she followed the river, there was a chance that she'll meet up with Isaac.

Heading back, she once again found Alex standing there with his spear and a bundle of cloth under his other arm. No wait, that's the tent she'd ruined earlier. His eyes lit up when he saw her and gave her a little nod and a wry smile as if he'd been expecting her to return here.

"What do you want?" said Jenna.

"Company, maybe?" he replied, friendly as ever.

Jenna shook her head in disbelief. Did nothing faze this moron? He just got ditched by Felix and everyone else. He had a _huge_ bounty on his head and the Imilians might have ventured southward to look for him! And all he worried about was the lack of company?

Alex leant his spear against his shoulder and then shook the bundle of cloth under his arm, grabbing a piece of violet silk from the pack and holding it out towards Jenna.

"You forgot your cape," he said with another mild-mannered smile.

"Why are you smiling?" asked Jenna flatly, glaring at his stupid face.

"What am I supposed to do if not smile?" replied Alex with a light chuckle.

"You just got _ditched!_"

"Hah-ha, crying won't help the situation now, would it? Here, put this back on. It's cold."

Jenna stared at her cape for a moment and then snatched it back, throwing it around her shoulders. Alex then jiggled something that was still in his hands—the bronze cup brooches. She took them back too and began fastening her cape. From the corner of her eyes she could see him watching her dress with an amused smile.

"I'm curious of that cape you chose to wear."

Jenna knew he was talking about the expensive dye and fabric. She wasn't proud of the purchase. It was an impulsive trade and bad deal, but she wore it anyway since she paid good money for it.

"Are you going to tell me it's flimsy and useless too?" she asked.

Alex averted his eyes and sighed with a crooked smile.

"Not at all," he replied. "Silk is a good choice for keeping yourself warm. It's light too."

"So you're looking for a way to show off your useless knowledge again. Could have guessed that."

"Silk isn't exactly a common product in the north. You must have paid quite a lot for that."

"Not that much…" Although Jenna said that with a huff, she averted her eyes and folded her arms tightly over her chest. "I have too many sheep anyway. Didn't have anyone to split the inheritance with, so why not spend a bit on myself? No reason to dress in rags when I can have something nice."

"I agree."

"Really? You don't seem like the wasteful type."

"If the item is worth its price to you, who am I to say otherwise?"

"Where are you going with this conversation?"

"Why do you think I'm trying to go anywhere with it? I'm simply curious."

"You want something from me, don't you?"

"What do you think you have that I might want from you?"

"Why would you drag on such a useless conversation if you don't want something from me?"

Alex averted his eyes and gave her a wry smile. _Hah!_ She knew it.

"You're free to believe whatever you want," he then said with a small sigh. He then thrust his hand under his outer tunic and withdrew a piece of folded parchment for her.

"What's that?"

"A map of Bilibin."

"Why would I want your old map?"

"Are you familiar with the area then?"

"No?"

"Then you'd need a map if you want to find your way back to civilization, dearheart."

She winced. Dearheart. She could no longer tell whether he was using that term to make fun of her or not—Felix wasn't exactly around to laugh so he had no reason to be funny.

"Then what about you?" said Jenna, taking the map.

"I know the way," he replied with a cheerful smile. Did he ever stop smiling?

"And _why_ do you think I want to go to Bilibin?"

Alex shrugged his shoulders.

"_Hmph_. Then where do _you_ plan to go, Alex?"

"I'll go find Felix."

"Are you _insane?_" shouted Jenna immediately.

"Why would you think so?" asked Alex, tilting his head aside with a curious smile.

"They just ditched you, you idiot!" said Jenna. "They don't want you! Why would you tail after them like a mindless slave when they don't even _want_ you? How pathetic are you?"

Alex briefly averted his eyes. He looked almost sad, yet not. It was a strange expression.

"You're right," he then said evenly. "Then what about you? Do you want me?"

Jenna choked on her breath. He could have said that better. He could have worded that _way_ better.

"Why would I 'want' you?"

"I don't know." Alex shrugged. "Chaperone? Guard? Companion?"

"Chaperone?" said Jenna with a dry laugh. "Joke of the _year_! Sounds like you're just trying to take advantage of me."

"You didn't have to insult me," replied Alex glumly, looking away. He wasn't smiling anymore. Instead he looked beaten, as if he'd just received a hard slap in the face.

"You don't want to be insulted? Then you shouldn't have worded it as if you were offering yourself! How lonely _are_ you?"

"You're right…" Alex's voice was quiet like a whisper. "I am very lonely."

Jenna stared at him. His face seemed unchanged and he still wore that sad expression. He slid his hand up to the spear shaft and then lifted it from his shoulder. Defeated, he merely whispered a goodbye before starting to make his way down along the river, his clumsy steps leaving deep footprints on the muddy ground.

"_Hey!_" Jenna then called out to him.

Alex stopped in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder. Jenna's suddenly realized she didn't know what to say. She didn't even understand why she called out to him in the first place. Her gaze finally landed on the tent he held and she quickly spat out:

"That's _my_ tent you took!"

He simply tossed it at her feet without objection and then continued to leave. Jenna silently stared at the tent on the ground and then towards Alex's fading shadow.

What was his deal? How could he just give her everything without question? He didn't have any supplies and now he'll end up having to sleep in the open too. Could he even hunt or trap his own food? Jenna knew he could cook and prepare food, but she'd never seen him catch anything—not even a fish. She gripped onto the old map he'd given her. Felix had ditched him. He ditched _them_. He left them with nothing but the clothes they wore. Couldn't Alex see that he'd been abandoned? Why would he want to go back to Felix? Not even Jenna wanted to crawl back to her brother and the heartless witch after this unforgivable act.

She then suddenly remembered how Alex repeatedly told her he was in on the quest for _glory_. It probably wasn't something he just threw out as a laugh. He consistently gave everyone the same answer with no variation at all. And it suddenly struck her that Alex was to be pitied. Because he'd obviously been duped into Menardi's quest and now he'd been thrown away like a used old rag.

_Tch! _No, Alex had himself to blame for his downfall. You'd have to be _amazingly_ stupid to buy into Menardi's scheme if your identity was the Patriarch of the Mercury Clan. If Alex simply wanted glory he could've had all of it if he vanquished the witch's warband. He would've been hailed as a hero like Uncle Kyle. He would've been immortalized in the clan's history as the one who stopped a rising threat and prevented the deadly forces of Alchemy from being brought back to the world. What more did he want?

Maybe Alex was just gullible. He didn't seem to have that many years on his back. He was probably the same age as Felix if not younger.

Jenna opened the map to read it when something fell out from the folded parchment. Kneeling to the ground she found a flat and heavily decorated haircomb with twisting serpents and inlaying in bronze and silver. It was well worn; two of its wooden teeth had been replaced with bronze and a third tooth was missing.

This was her mother's haircomb. Jenna's mother had told her it was traditionally given to the girls of the family as a part of their dowry. Sure, there could have been more combs just like these but what were the odds of another comb with the exact same teeth being broken off and replaced? Looking down, she noticed a folded piece of paper at her feet. Opening it, she laid eyes on her brother's beautiful but _unreadable_ handwriting.

Jenna gritted her teeth as she stared at the letter. She looked up towards the riverbank, but Alex had vanished.

"Felix, you bastard…" She cursed under her breath as she tightened her waistband and then shoved the map, the letter and the comb under the wide collar of her dress. She set off along the river, following the stream. Felix did this on purpose. The coward couldn't even talk to her face to face and instead had a third person give her a damn letter—a letter she couldn't even read to boot!

"Alex!" She called for the stupid Water Adept as she ran. "Alex, wait! _Alex_,_ come back!_ I'm sorry! Al—"

"_Ah_—ck!"

Hearing the pitiful cry from within the woods, she turned around to see tall shadows among the trees. She carefully neared the scene and could figure out that someone was getting beat up, _badly._

Three men with feathered hats stood near the forest path, two holding swords and one carrying a heavy crossbow. They were all soaked to some degree and Alex lay on his side on the ground, his spear lying broken at his feet.

The brown-haired crossbowman put a foot on the side of Alex's head, telling the priest to not try more magic tricks.

"We've dealt with warlocks and errant priests before, and you're not one of our stronger adversaries."

Alex let out a hitched breath. The men ignored his pleas. One of the swordsmen opened a scroll. He had brown curls reaching to his shoulders and the others called him Egil. He then squatted down, grabbed a handful of Alex's hair and forced the priest to lift his head. The man compared Alex's face with the drawing in his hands and then nodded to his friends.

"It's him."

Jenna silently looked around for an escape. She should leave. She should leave now. But she stood rooted on the spot and couldn't move, her hands clamped tightly over her mouth and her breath coming out in uneven gasps.

The other swordsman, who had long black hair, pulled Alex up to a sitting position. He then yanked his right arm, making Alex shriek in pain. Jenna took an unsteady step back when a twig snapped under her boot and the bounty hunters immediately turned towards her direction.

Their hands flew towards their weapons in alarm. Jenna let out a gasp and before she knew it she'd whisked her hands and flung a plume of flames into Egil and set his coat on fire. The dark-haired swordsman rose up and quickly drew his blade, but tripped when Alex grabbed his trousers.

"_Shoot!_" said Egil, shedding his burning coat. "Vince, shoot!"

Alex slammed a hand against the ground and a torrent of water materialized underneath the crossbowman and knocked him off his feet. He was promptly rewarded with a kick in the face.

Jenna turned around to run, but the dark-haired swordsman put his sword to her neck. She froze, staring into his dark slanted eyes. This man wasn't Bilibian. He didn't even look remotely North Angaran.

Egil or the crossbowman then pressed a foul-smelling cloth over Jenna's mouth. Her limbs felt heavy like iron and her world began to spin. Her knees gave in and she fell to the ground, her mind slipping into the void.

When she woke up later, she found herself in a wagon with her hands bound in front of her on her lap.

"You're wake?" said a man Jenna didn't know.

She lifted her head from the stranger's shoulder and yelped, sitting up straight and realizing her feet were bound together as well. The green-eyed crossbowman reached towards her, but Jenna lifted an elbow in alarm. When the stranger raised his empty hands in peace, she looked around the wagon and searched for Alex. The priest lay on a bedroll on the bottom of the vehicle. The dark-haired swordsman was tending to Alex's wounds, carefully extracting the arrows while the Imilian closed his wounds with his Psynergy. Apparently, Alex had been shot three times; once in the chest and twice in the legs. Jenna stared at the medic. Why did they even bother fixing Alex up? They were bounty hunters, right? Weren't they afraid he'd run away?

"Jenna, right?" said the crossbowman.

"How do you know my name?" asked Jenna, narrowing her eyes.

"Our employer mentioned you," replied the man. "Anyway, I'm Vincent of Ilya's Arrows. That is Ming," he gestured to the dark-haired medic, "and Egil is driving."

"Your names don't say anything," said Jenna icily.

"We're mercenaries from Bilibin. Our company was founded five years ago by Ilya the—"

"What do you want from us?" asked Jenna, glaring at the man.

Vincent sighed deeply, looking disappointed.

"From you… _nothing_. But from _him_…" he nodded towards Alex, "well, our benefactor wants to meet him."

"He's just a healer. Did you have to shoot him so many times?"

"We were told he was a sorcerer and he carried a sharp pointy stick," said Egil. "And when dealing with sorcerers… shoot first and ask questions later."

"Yea, because _that's_ never going to backfire…" replied Jenna, rolling her eyes.

"What did you—?"

"Eyes on the road, Gil," said Vincent, "I don't want to be surprised by cursed beasts again." He then picked up several large pictures from under his seat and showed them to Jenna. "You should recognize these faces."

Jenna stared at the detailed portraits of Menardi, Saturos and Felix. She didn't blink. She might have a grudge with Menardi and Felix, but she wasn't going to rat them out to some greedy bounty hunters.

"I understand that you're worried we'll hurt your brother," said Vincent, "but our benefactor specified he wants his guests arrive in one piece. See, Ming is a very skilled medic and I'm an expert marksman. Besides, you sorcerers heal up in no time. We might not be the famous Silver Eagles and the Azure Rangers, but we do have a reputation to uphold."

Jenna remained silent. The light of the midday sun entered the wagon and she found an interest in the shadows of the trees that quickly flicked by as the vehicle moved. Was this maniac really trying to reassure her that he won't kill Felix but he'd still shoot him with a crossbow? _Seriously_?

"Well, we won't force you to talk," said Vincent, rolling up the pictures and putting them away, "but it'll help us a great deal."

Jenna kept her silence. She might have fooled herself that she wouldn't care if Felix tripped and died in a ditch, but she wasn't going to send a bunch of crazy mercenaries after her brother. The only people she'd divulge any information to were Isaac and the Valian templars. But was it possible to lie to these people? They knew her name. How much did they know about her? And where were they taking her?

She wondered if she could escape. Probably not if Vincent had his crossbow ready.

"Who's this benefactor you're talking about?" asked Jenna.

"Sorry, we don't divulge information about our clients," said Ming, pulling Alex up to a sitting position and closing his shirts.

"Don't worry," said Vincent with a friendly smile. "You'll meet him soon, I promise."

Jenna looked away from the mercenaries and towards the changing landscape. They were out of the woods now at least.

"_Where_ are you taking us then?" she asked as they wagon crossed a bridge. She saw a mill by the river, which meant they at least seemed to be heading towards civilization.

"Bilibin City," said Vincent with a sigh, stretching his arms. He then reached out a hand towards Jenna.

"I'll untie you now, but don't burn my face, all right?"

Jenna raised her hand, letting Vincent free her.

"No promises," she replied, drawing a laugh from Ming.

Jenna rubbed her wrists as she finally was free. As Vincent untied her feet, she was tempted to kick the crossbowman in the face for this entire ordeal but refrained, since it was unwise to make him angry. If he truly was a reputable sellsword, she might end up in more trouble. As long as he didn't try roping her into something illegal or hurt her, she'd try to be grateful for the free ride to town.

The mercenaries didn't mistreat or threaten her or Alex during the trip, although they were quite biased against "sorcerers" and "magic". Jenna couldn't figure out who their mysterious benefactor was, but the mercenaries had been told to treat Alex and Jenna well, which could only mean that the client either was Jenna's friend or her sworn enemy.

After three days of travel, she could see the city walls and watchtowers of Bilibin in the evening horizon. Noise from the other visitors and their vehicles became louder as they approached the gate. The guards asked Egil questions and then a city guard peeked into the wagon. Vincent waved to the man with a smile and the guard vanished as quickly as he'd appeared. They were granted entrance to the city without hindrance.

Jenna could see the buildings of the city pass by as the wagon bounced on the uneven streets. The journey felt like hours and she couldn't help wondering who the hell had hired a bunch of people to capture _her_ of all people.

Eventually, Vincent left her side and stepped out to Egil. He began pointing on the road and telling Egil which way to go. Ming gathered up his equipment and also returned to Alex the spearhead from his broken spear. The priest sighed and retrieved it silently, wrapping it with the cloth tassel before shoving it in his pocket. Jenna couldn't help fidgeting with her hands as she watched him secured his cloak around his shoulders with skinny shaking fingers. His face was pale and he looked almost sick.

Finally, the wagon stopped and Vincent declared they had arrived. Jenna looked towards Alex and offered him a hand. The healer accepted her aid and she threw his arm over her shoulders and helped him out of the wagon. They stepped out in front of a row of large buildings near the town square. The mercenaries gestured from the entrance of an inn and Jenna guided Alex indoors. These sellswords couldn't possibly do anything funny to them in public, right? Egil talked to the innkeeper and then waved Ming over to him. They seemed to be old friends and began laughing as the innkeeper placed a bottle of liquor on the counter.

Vincent shook his head and waved Jenna to the staircase. He led them upstairs to the rentable rooms, but stopped at the corridor. He then grabbed a stepladder from the wall and climbed up to the trapdoor leading to the attic.

Jenna vaguely recognized the faint voice coming from above, but she couldn't tell exactly who it was.

"Who is it?"

"I'm Vincent of Ilyas Arrows," replied the mercenary, poking his head up through the trapdoor. "I've found the girl and the priest you've been looking for.

"Ah, _splendid!_ Please, bring them in! I have _so_ many questions…"

Vincent climbed into the attic and then gestured to Jenna to come. Jenna eyed towards Alex and then whispered to him:

"If I scream, run."

He gave her an amused smile but then looked away, taking his arm off her shoulder and letting her climb up the ladder.

The attic was way brighter than the corridor, and light poured in from the wide triangular windows on the side of the room. The place was littered with books and smelt of parchment and ink. Several bookshelves stood at the side of the room and two wide desks were near the windows.

A lean figure stood in-between the desks, sweeping the books on the first table down to the floor and hastily rolling out large scrolls on the desk. Grey curls framed the old man's face and his round glasses flashed in the sunlight when he turned around looking for weights to prevent the scrolls from closing themselves.

"_Kraden_?" said Jenna.

"_Master_ Kraden," said a voice from the side. It belonged to a fair-haired young man standing near one of the bookshelves. He held an armful of scrolls and parchment and an older man next to him was sorting them back into the shelves. Swords and daggers hung from the men's belts and they wore the same uniform in brown, red and white.

"Who are these people?" asked Jenna.

"We are Master Kraden's guards and assistants," said the young man. "Who do you think _you_ are?"

"_Guards_? You have _guards_ now, Kraden?" said Jenna.

"Well, of course," said the young guardsman. "Someone as important as Lord Babi's head researcher must be protected when he's in foreign lands. Who did you think you were talking to?"

"Jeremy," said Kraden. "Don't be rude to the guests. She's a student of mine."

"Ah! My apologies… uh… Miss."

"Her name is Jenna."

"My apologies, Miss Jenna."

Jenna shuddered. She didn't know what was worse; Alex calling her "dearheart" or this boy feigning politeness. She looked around the attic as Vincent helped Alex into the room. It looked almost like a small library here. Kraden must have been here for an extended period of time to gather up all this stuff. Last time she saw him was… months ago. Alex dropped him off in Vault and everyone just forgot about him, assuming he went back to Kalay. Had he been holed up here in Bilibin the entire time? Who was this Lord Babi and why was Kraden working for him? Wasn't Kraden just some poor pilgrim from Kalay? And did he seriously hire a bunch of shoot-first-ask -later-sellswords to capture her and Alex?

Nearing the desk she cast a glance down towards the scrolls. She couldn't read the text, but the pictures told her it was some sort of construction plans for a tower. The drawing looked just like the Mercury Lighthouse… She looked to Alex, who stood next to her, and nudged his arm, silently asking if he knew anything about these drawings.

The priest seemed as puzzled as Jenna herself, but Jenna could tell he could read them. His gaze was fixed on the plans and he lifted a hand to touch the drawings, his lips moving wordlessly as he read for himself.

"You must have many questions," said Kraden, causing both Jenna and Alex to direct their attention back to him. "Sit." He gestured to the stools near the desk and then looked to his bodyguards. "Jeremy, get our guests something to drink, will you?"

"Will tea suffice?" asked Jeremy.

"Water's good enough," replied Jenna, looking away.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

You didn't really think I got rid of Kraden now, did you?

Things might seem to happen fast in this chapter and that's mainly because I merged two chapters for this. But this is the point where things go really bad for Felix's team. A party split is seldom a good sign…

And yes, being an Adept doesn't make you invulnerable. Some random unmagical schmucks can take you out with ranged weapons. In fact, sniping with a crossbow from distance is probably the most effective way of dealing with sorcerers.


	16. – Sanctuary

**A** week after the events at the Koliman River, Isaac was finally back in the city of Bilibin.

The first snow fell in the evening, and the plaza was packed with travellers and merchants. A big caravan had taken refuge in the city and a good dozen wagons were parked at the town square. Lanterns illuminated the camp in warm light and many citizens had stopped by to trade with the travellers.

A bard sung The Hymn of Prox for a small gathering. It was inspiring music for the refugees who'd lost their homes after the monsters attacked. At least some people still tried to keep the spirits high.

So many people had lost their homes; so many people had been forced to leave their homelands to save themselves. Just the thought of how many people had been killed by the demonic beasts that ravaged the countryside made Isaac sick inside. From where did they come from? Why did they attack? Did someone open a gate to the Underworld? Was a dark sorcerer in the woods preying on the innocents? There had to be answers for all of this evil.

Isaac looked away, seeing Garet and Ivan standing a good ten paces further down the street. He sighed and took a quick step forward, about to rejoin with his group when Garet suddenly waved a hand and shook his head. Not understanding, Isaac gave the Fire Adept an incredulous stare, raising his hands with palms facing up. The friend responded with a dismissing gesture and waved Isaac towards the caravan. Garet touched Ivan's shoulder and then ordered the boy away from him too. As the little Wind Adept ran over to Isaac side, Garet turned around and then headed further down the streets without saying a word.

"He's going to the temple," said Ivan, taking Isaac's hand. "We'll regroup here later after he finds a place for us to sleep."

Isaac gave the boy a weak nod that meant nothing more than acknowledgement of his presence.

Ever since the failure in the north, he'd felt an aching hollowness in his chest. If there had only been some monsters or bandits to fight, he'd maybe still find some usefulness in his abilities as a warrior and Adept. The journey had been too smooth for comfort. After watching Jenna being abused at the river he'd felt nothing but powerlessness.

"Isaac_…_" said Ivan, closing his harebell-coloured eyes and hugging his arm.

Isaac felt comforting warmth creep through his body and he shuddered involuntarily. The heat lingered on his face, his cheeks tingled and he began feeling a bit dazed. He removed a glove and touched his burning cheeks, but they were cold against his palm.

Was he sick? The thought merely left him when the heat vanished and he suddenly felt cold once more. He shivered again. Yes, he was definitely sick. And it was _his own _bright idea to bath outdoors in cold November. He'll never stop hearing it from Garet if everyone else also ended up sick.

"Let's go have a look over there," he told Ivan, pointing towards the merchants' wagons before the boy could see that something was wrong. "Those people might have something useful for trade."

Ivan failed to notice his sickly expression and nodded with an excited smile, gripping Isaac's hand as they headed towards the merchants. The tradesmen greeted the Adepts warmly and waved them towards their goods. Isaac cast quick glances at the tables, seeing furs and jewellery, and he walked past. He could hear a couple of people argue over the price of a white fox pelt as he approached a woman selling clothes.

The tradeswoman wore a red shawl around her head and looked up from knitting when she saw Isaac approaching her table. She greeted the Adepts with a curt nod, but didn't say anything.

Isaac let his hand hover over the clothing on the table. He didn't need more clothing himself, but Ivan could use a thing or two—the boy didn't even have anything to change into when Isaac took away his clothes to wash, and he had to sit with blankets wrapped around him while they dried.

All the fabric was in bright red, blue and green. The dyework was amazing. Isaac wondered what techniques people outside Vale used to get such vibrant colours. In the corners of his eyes, he spotted Ivan self-consciously rub himself on his opposite arm and look away. Isaac grinned for himself, and his gaze lingered on a bright red tunic with a nicely embroidered collar and patterned cuffs.

"How much for this?" asked Isaac. It would replace Ivan's green jacket nicely and go well with the purple shirt and the yellow scarf.

"Good eye," said the tradeswoman, "it's a bit small for you though. Is it for your… friend?"

"Yes, it's for him," said Isaac, putting a hand on Ivan's shoulder with a smile.

"_N-no!_" said Ivan immediately, waving his hands. He cast a look at the tunic and then urgently searched around the market with his gaze. "I… I don't want it."

"Aaw, but this will look so good on you," said the woman, lifting the fabric and rubbing it between her fingers. "It'll keep you warm in winter and it looks way better than the tattered thing you're wearing right now."

"I don't need it," said Ivan, speaking through clenched teeth. He gripped the poofy sleeves of his heavily mended jacket, knitting his eyebrows. "Th-this is fine."

"Is it the colour?" asked Isaac. "I think red looks great on you, but—"

"Don't spend unnecessary money on me!" replied Ivan with quivering lips, turning away and hiding his eyes under his blond fringe.

"F-fine, _fine_…" Isaac waved his palms towards Ivan and then gently patted the boy on the shoulder. "I won't buy it. J-just don't cry!"

When the tradeswoman decided to give him a huge discount as if he had no money, Isaac felt blood rushing to his face. He waved his hands no and then dragged Ivan away from the salestand to retain _some_ dignity. When he finally turned back to Ivan, the boy could only gaze up towards him through his fringe with a worried look, his free hand gripping his purple collar nervously.

"Come on," said Isaac, sighing and rolling his eyes. "You can't keep wearing those rags forever. I want to buy you a gift since I traded your silver dagger away in Imil."

"You don't owe me anything," Ivan sombrely replied, directing his gaze towards the streets. "We have to eat. Please, Isaac, you'll just make me feel guilty."

"Guilty for _what_?" said Isaac, staring at the boy. "It was _your_ silver dagger!"

Ivan shuddered and pressed his hands over his nose and mouth. He inhaled loudly and shook his head, struggling to stem the flowing tears.

Isaac froze and immediately wanted to throttle himself. Great. He'd raised his voice again and made Ivan cry. Just great. Why did he have to be such an uncivilized barbarian? No wonder people thought he was adopted.

He put his hands on Ivan's upper arms, giving him a small shake.

"Hey…" he spoke gently, but he didn't get to say anything more before Garet called out his name:

"Isaac!"

Ivan quickly wiped his tears and Isaac sighed in relief, silently thanking his friend for freeing him from the uncomfortable moment.

"We can sleep in the temple tonight," said the Fire Adept. "It's a good thing I'm an official member of the Valian Order. Less hassle to convince people we're good, you know. There are a lot of visitors in the city right now. I guess the temple don't want to take in just anyone when there are so many vulnerable people there. They don't have any beds to offer, but we can sleep in the chapel."

The sound of that idea filled Isaac with dread. However, he slowly motioned Ivan towards Garet.

"You two can go there then," he said. "I have some business to finish."

Ivan's eyes grew tall and he urgently grabbed Isaac's right wrist with both of his hands, shaking his head no.

Garet gave the Earth Adept a questioning look as well.

"You're not trying to run ahead on your own, are you?" said Garet.

Isaac waved his hands above his head and rolled his eyes.

"No," he replied.

"No illegal activities?"

"What's _wrong_ with you?" Isaac stared at his friend in disbelief. "I just don't want to sleep in the temple where Saint Imil can stare at me with judging eyes!" He gestured incredulously, throwing his hand up in the air. "You think I've forgotten how Felix's underling beat me up without effort? You think I've forgotten what happened in Vault? Do I look like I want to go back to jail? _Seriously!_"

Garet took half a step back, raising his hands but lowering his eyebrows.

"Then where are you planning to spend the night?" asked the friend. "On the streets? The inns are all booked full—I've asked!"

"I'm a grown man," said Isaac.

"There are dangerous criminals on the loose!"

"I can fend for myself! Just take care of Ivan and make sure he doesn't get kidnapped again!"

"Fine, let's meet up outside the temple tomorrow, then." Garet put a hand on Ivan's shoulder and pulled him away from the Earth Adept. "And stay out of trouble."

Isaac watched his friends disappear down the streets, his anger subsiding as soon Garet was out of sight. He spat on the ground and then walked back to the merchants.

Of course Garet would think he'd run off on his own. Garet looked down on Isaac no matter what. It didn't matter that Isaac had let the Fire Adept take the lead ever since Petro's death. It didn't matter that Isaac was trying to keep to himself. Nothing he did could ever please the Templars of Vale.

He cast a look towards the singing minstrel. Passing the crowd he tapped a bystander on the shoulder and politely asked if anyone around here could appraise a sword. The dark-eyed stranger shrugged and then turned to a friend next to him, asking the same question. It seemed like the answer was no, and Isaac resigned to heading to a pawnshop tomorrow.

He stayed a while and listened to the bard's song, wondering how much of a disappointment he was as a defender of the world. He wasn't a templar, but everyone who'd received the gift of magic was chosen by the Saints…

"Hey you."

Feeling someone poke his shoulder, Isaac looked up to see a stranger with a green hat.

"You looking for a weapon collector right?" said the man, pointing behind him with his thumb. "Uncle Ping says he's interested."

Isaac looked behind the man to see a dark-haired stranger with a thin black beard and wide brimmed hat. He smoked from a pipe and studied Isaac from top to toe, giving the Earth Adept a judgmental look. The man then nodded weakly, gesturing towards Isaac and asking him to come over and show the goods.

"This better be good," said the merchant, leaning against his closed trailer and not even bothering to find a better place to talk.

Isaac let out a sigh. He set his backpack on the streets, watching the merchant from the corner of his eye. The man folded his arms over his chest, impatiently casting a downward look at Isaac who removed his bedroll. His dismissive look didn't change until Isaac opened the bedroll and revealed a fancy sword with a gilded hilt and a green gemstone for a pommel.

With a triumphant grin, Isaac slowly picked up the sword with both hands and presented it to the merchant. The dark-haired man removed the pipe from his mouth for a moment, staring at the fancy sword with wonder and surprise. He then gave Isaac a calm nod and went to open his wagon and welcome the Earth Adept in for a drink.

Isaac quickly gathered his stuff from the ground and then entered the trailer. The inside with lit up by a fancy paper lantern with painted horses and the entire place smelt of some sort of herbs and spices. A little bird chirped from a bronze cage and several fancy velvet-clad boxes lay stacked in a corner. This man was rich. That's for sure.

The tradesman pulled out a small table and opened one of his chests, retrieving two ceramic bowls and a bottle of liquor. He poured up a clear drink, offering it to the Adept.

Isaac took the drink and hesitantly took a sip. He hasn't tasted something like this before. The wine was a bit sweet, but he decided he liked the taste and drank some more.

The tradesman gave him a friendly smile and took off his hat. The man definitely wasn't Bilibian; he didn't even look remotely north Angaran. His eyes were dark and slanted and his hair was pitch-black. He introduced himself with a funny title and nickname, although he decided everyone should call him Uncle Ping. He began weaving an enthralling story of how he'd travelled all over Angara, collecting exotic weapons and swords. Isaac sipped from his bowl and pretended to be as interested as best he could, even though he couldn't care less about the merchant's life story. After a while, he asked what kind of wine this was.

"Oh, it's a family recipe," said the merchant, telling Isaac his family ran a business in Xian. They sold tea, though—not wine. The tradesman then solemnly raised a hand towards Isaac with a beckoning look.

Isaac put his empty bowl away and the sword on the table, ready to talk business. Seeing the merchant raising an eyebrow and giving him a crooked smile, he immediately understood that he'd done something weird.

"So, can you appraise this?" asked Isaac, heat rising to his face in embarrassment. The merchant remained quiet but he seated on the other side of the table, picking up the sword and taking a closer look.

The sword was thin with a sharp tapering blade. The hilt was elegant with a wrist-guard in swirling lengths of gilded metal. Isaac was convinced he'd found treasure when he first fished it out from the swamp, but he had no idea of its value. There was a good reason he hid it from Garet, the Paragon of Justice; he'd probably insist returning it to the rightful owner even though Isaac had found it fair and square.

"Where did you get this?" said the merchant finally, his low voice revealing his suspicion. "Where's the scabbard?"

Isaac's already uncomfortable expression instantly turned into a sullen frown.

"What do you mean?" he asked, speaking lowly and narrowing his eyes. "It's an heirloom."

The merchant quickly raised a hand in jest, but Isaac had already been offended. He took the sword back and prepared to leave, livid that this man dared questioning his ownership of the sword. He could hear the merchant whisper about his lack of manners and that he would've paid good money for the weapon.

"It's not for sale," retorted Isaac, stepping out of the trailer. He didn't have to put up with this. He wasn't a templar, but he wasn't a thief either! But he could've used the money regardless.

He cast a look towards the gathering where the musician now played a drinking song on his drum. Isaac could use another drink.

He was useless, and he couldn't help but despairing in his incompetence and failure. His hand tightened around the fancy sword wrapped in his bedroll. He wished to be a hero but he couldn't even look respectable in armour. Even with a fancy sword he still looked like a peasant or even a thief.

The only person who could possibly see him as a hero was Ivan.

Ivan…

Remembering the child, Isaac turned around and ran back to the merchant. Swallowing his pride, he explained he wasn't willing to sell the sword but that he'd part from it on other terms.

"Really?" said the tradesman with a huff, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against his trailer. "Well, let's hear them."

"I have a brother who I love more than anything else in the world," began Isaac. He then paused and thought for a moment. "I was kicked out of home. An abusive stepfather was involved. My brother ran away with me because he didn't know any better. I thought I could take care of him, but he'd been suffering ever since the journey began. If you're by any chance passing Vale, I'd like you to bring my brother home to my mother there."

* * *

The hinges creaked as the innkeeper tore the door open, his oil lamp casting a warm light into a tiny room. Isaac took a wide look inside. It was crammed, barely fitting the bed and the stool next to it and it almost seemed like a small prison cell.

Actually, no, this was obviously some converted storage space. Rows of dusty old shelves and hooks hung from every wall and dust shimmered in the yellow light. The bed was a small cot without headboards and the nightstand was an old stool. The innkeeper shoved the chamberpot under the bed. Then he fished up a little stump of a candle from his pocket, lit it and placed it in the candlestick on the stool.

Isaac threw his luggage on the floor next to the "nightstand". He then silently took out a single piece of silver from his coin pouch and handed it over to the broad shouldered man with the huge bronze beard.

"Wake me at dawn, will you?" asked Isaac. "I've got something important to do in the morning."

"Sure, I'll wake you," said the innkeeper with a smile. He flipped the coin in his hand and then put it in his pocket. His footsteps creaked against the wooden boards as he went back upstairs.

Isaac seated on the old bed. It creaked under his weight and he ran a finger over the wooden bedframe to wipe away a thick layer of dust. He pushed down on the pillow and the mattress, hearing them crunch—they were stuffed with reeds.

Well, the innkeeper wasn't joking when he said he wouldn't rent this room to him unless he insisted. But then, even a moth eaten old bed was better than no bed at all. It was either this or the streets—there was no way he'd crawl back to the temple after refusing the offer earlier.

He disrobed, starting with taking off his cuirass and boots. He looked at the armour with tired eyes for a moment, wondering why he even wore this thing in the first place. It was a heavy piece of metal; it chilled him in winter and it wasn't even very useful in the first place. His sword protected him way better than this thing and practically _everyone_ had made fun of him for wearing it, calling him a street performer or a runaway thespian. How could his grandfather have worn this thing without becoming laughingstock of the village? Right, Eyvind the Skald was actually more of a travelling storyteller than a warrior.

Skald. Isaac let out a small chuckle, finding it funny that he descended from a line of poets and musicians. He was known for being close to illiterate despite his attempts to learn the literary arts. Even Kyle the Hero of Vale wrote a few songs even if they never became popular.

Isaac threw the breastplate on the floor and swept it aside with his feet along with the boots. He stretched his arms and undid his belt, taking his legwear and socks off. His toes were swollen and numb and his feet smelled bad even though he bathed in the river yesterday. He focused his Psynergy and cast a healing spell on his feet before taking off his tunic and throwing the clothes on the foot of the bed. A shiver crawled up from his arms and shook his shoulders. Lying down on the bed, he stared up towards the ceiling, his mind wandering back to better times.

Isaac had long resigned to living a simple life in Vale as an insignificant nobody. But Felix… Felix changed that. Felix, his best friend Felix, changed Isaac's mind and gave him a new purpose in life.

Before Felix told him otherwise, Isaac thought he'd be nothing more than a simple farmer. He was untalented and too stupid to learn. Even his father gave up on him and gave him a garden hoe.

And Isaac accepted his fate. For a while, he was even relieved. No longer would he have to live up to anyone's high expectations. He would live his life as an ordinary farmer and be content.

But Felix changed that.

Felix the wonder child. Felix, who was loved by everyone in the village and destined to be the village's leader.

Felix told him he was so much more than just a stupid kid. Felix made him feel he was worth something. Felix told him he was his brother and marked him with his favourite scarf.

Isaac would later have dreams of being a famous warrior. But he wouldn't trade Felix's friendship away for all the glory and fame in the world.

He turned around on his side and buried his face in the pillow, lifting the duvet and wrapping himself up with it. Shivering, he hoped to be warm soon. As he reached out to put the candle out, he suddenly heard steps on the staircase followed by light knocking on the door.

_Dock-dock-dock._

Isaac slowly sat up on the bed before the door creaked open. Marcus was back, his oil lamp filling the room with more warm light, but he didn't arrive alone. A small figure stood in front of the innkeeper; a skittish boy Isaac assumed would be spending the night in the temple.

The innkeeper grasped Ivan's right shoulder with one hand. His tall forehead and thick eyebrows cast shadows down his face, and he didn't seem very happy when he firmly pushed Ivan forward to present him to Isaac.

"Do you know this boy?" asked Marcus.

Isaac blinked and stared at Ivan, who tried to step towards him but the innkeeper clutched his shoulder and held him back. The boy seemed like he'd been caught stealing or was in some other sort of trouble.

"Yes," said Isaac, extending his arms toward Ivan and Marcus finally let go. Ivan threw himself in Isaac's embrace, clamping his arms around the Earth Adept's neck and crying tears of relief. "Yes, he's with me," Isaac told the innkeeper, cupping Ivan's shoulder blades and holding the boy gently. "He didn't cause any trouble did he?"

"Well," said the innkeeper dourly, "banging on the door after closing hours isn't a serious crime to me, but you should keep a better eye on your brother if he's any dear to you."

"Sorry about that," Isaac whispered in shame, comfortingly rubbing Ivan on the back. "I'll take better care of him from now on."

"Well, I hope so, for _his_ sake," said the innkeeper with a heavy sigh. "There are child abductors on the loose and I'd hate to find out that another sweet child like him goes missing."

"Thanks," replied Isaac, pressing a kiss to Ivan's forehead. "I'll be careful."

The innkeeper nodded meekly, closing the door and leaving. He tried to hide it, but Isaac still noticed the sad look he cast towards Ivan as he left. After Marcus's footsteps had died away, Isaac pulled away from Ivan, giving the boy a harsh stare and asking him what he was doing here.

"Didn't I tell you to stay with Garet?" he asked. "What did you do this time that you had to flee all the way here? And how did you know I was here?"

Isaac shook his head with a sigh. He dropped back into bed and raised his hands up towards the ceiling.

"Last time you ran off on your own you almost got abducted! How stupid are you to run around alone when you could have safely stayed in the temple?"

"It was too cold there..." Ivan murmured, moving his hands to cover his lips. He lowered his head to knit his eyebrows together in a pained expression and let out a barely audible sniffle.

"_Cold?_" said Isaac. He couldn't believe this kid. "Right, because it's _so_ much warmer in this godforsaken cellar…"

Ivan muttered something under his breath.

"What did you say?" snapped Isaac.

"I said at least _you're_ _here!_" said Ivan. He paused for a moment, but then elaborated: "There were so many strangers in the temple… It… didn't feel safe."

"What are you talking about?" said Isaac, gesturing towards the boy. "Didn't Garet stay with you?"

"He just left me in the chapel and then went about his own business," Ivan replied bitterly.

"Business? What business?" asked Isaac.

"I _don't know!_" said Ivan, putting his hands over his ears. "He didn't want to tell me! He just told me to stay in the temple and then left." He then looked back at Isaac with pleading eyes. "I'm so tired…" he whispered, "please, Isaac, please, don't throw me out."

Isaac stayed silent for a moment. He couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't believe his friend actually left Ivan alone after Isaac explicitly told him to _keep Ivan safe_. Sitting up, he reached his arms around Ivan's neck and pulled the boy into his embrace.

"What kind of bastard would I be to throw you out after that…" he said gently, letting go and scooting over to one side of the small bed to make room for Ivan.

The boy silently eyed towards the packing and the floor, self-consciously stroking the side of his arm. Isaac knew exactly what Ivan was thinking from that expression and he wouldn't have any of it. This floor was probably twice as filthy as the ground they usually set up camp on.

"If you need to go to the latrine, I'll walk you there," said Isaac, "but if you're thinking about sleeping on the floor with the spiders and the _rats_, the answer is _no_."

"I don't want to be a bother to you…" replied Ivan.

"And I don't want to step on you in the morning by mistake." Isaac threw the duvet back in invitation. "Come here."

The boy lowered his head in shame. He finally seated on the edge of the bed and began taking off his shoes and footwraps. Ivan cast a look at Isaac's linen shirt and then slipped out of his jacket and dirty purple tunic, revealing his silk undergarments. The boy self-consciously put his arms around himself.

"C-can I sleep on the other side?" asked Ivan.

Isaac sighed and scooted over, letting the boy take the space next to the wall. Ivan almost pushed him out of the bed—this cot was definitely made for one person only. He was about to put the candle out when Ivan squeaked:

"_Wait!_"

"What now?"

"Please, can you leave it lit?"

"No."

Isaac pinched the wick of the candle and snuffed out the flame. The last thing he wanted was to be burned alive in an old dusty storage room. The smell of beewax was strong and he scratched the caked wax off his fingertips in the complete darkness. He sank down in the bed and closed his eyes. After perhaps ten seconds, Ivan latched an arm around Isaac's waist and pushed his head against his shoulder.

"_Cold_," said the little Wind Adept.

It was funny that Ivan wanted to sleep on the floor earlier and now he was crying about being cold. Isaac turned around, carefully tucking the duvet around the two of them and closing them in a sort of cocoon.

"Better?" he asked, wrapping an arm around Ivan's shoulder and tucking the boy under his chin.

"Mm-hm," was Ivan's hazy reply. He nestled against Isaac's chest. "Mm…"

Closing his eyes, Isaac exhaled deeply as Ivan's familiar heat enveloped him. Cold? _Right_, Ivan was even warmer than Isaac himself. If he just wanted to be held, he could have just said so.

His eyelids flickered open for just a second, but he still caught a glimpse of faint ghostly light surrounding the younger Adept in his arms. Psynergy? The thought barely left him as the aura vanished and returned Isaac to the cold air and complete darkness. He could feel Ivan lie stiff in his arms as well.

Of course, Fire and Wind were both warm elements. He should have guessed this from the beginning.

"Ivan—" he began, but was promptly cut off by the boy's frantic apologies:

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm _sorry_!"

"No, it's fine," said Isaac, speaking softly as he caressed Ivan's back. Of course it wasn't _fine_, but he wasn't going to be heartless. Ivan let out a half-sob, his small hands gripping the front of Isaac's linen shirt.

"I'm not angry, just… confused. Hey… don't cry! I said it's _fine!_"

Lalivero, _save_ him from this kid! With his patience quickly draining away, Isaac clamped his arms tighter around Ivan and pressed his chin down on the spot where Ivan's neck met his shoulder. How could someone be so _weak_? Isaac wasn't even going to do anything hurtful to him. He even _said_ he wasn't angry! _Why_ was he crying? Did he ever run out of tears?

As he finally let go and rolled over, reaching out and grasping in the darkness for the candle and the matches, one of Ivan's arms suddenly flew up around his neck.

"I'm sorry! Don't go!" said the boy.

"What do you _want_ from me?" asked Isaac. "I don't hold you—you whine. I hold you—you _cry!_"

After lighting the candle, he turned back to Ivan, who'd been reduced to a crying _mess_. Isaac didn't know who he wanted to slap the most—Ivan for being weak, or himself for making Ivan cry.

He propped himself up against the wall behind the head of the bed, pulled Ivan on top of him and grudgingly cradled him in his arms. Ivan's Psynergy flickered again, as if Mindread was the first thing that came to his mind as soon something happened to him.

"It's fine," said Isaac. "You can use Mindread tonight. I don't care."

Ivan inhaled against his shirt and shook his head.

"Look, I wasn't angry because you used Mindread. I was angry because you're crying for no reason."

He sensed the warmth of Ivan's Psynergy embracing him again, but he tried not to judge. Instead, he lifted the duvet to cover Ivan and himself. Silence once again filled the room as he counted the swirling particles of dust in the air. His mind wandered back to the moment they were reunited in the mountains, wondering how Ivan could have travelled from Vault to the Goma Range on his own since he was so weak. Looking down and remembering that Ivan was listening, he directed a message to Ivan through thought:

Talk to me. You're listening, right?

The boy brushed the side of his face against Isaac's chest, his grasp around Isaac's linen shirt tightening.

He asked why Ivan even bothered using Mindread on him. He wasn't some brilliant tactician with amazing ideas. Strictly speaking, he was just a peasant with a sword—a dishonoured one to boot. Ivan wasn't going to find some big secrets from him, unless he really was interested in knowing how many chickens he'd raised throughout the years. The answer was thirty-six, by the way.

"No, I… I wanted to hear your voice," said Ivan. "I wanted to know you were really there. _Hf_… I-I… I'm afraid of the dark."

He said the last statement quickly, as if it had been some sort of embarrassing secret. Isaac bit the insides of his cheek, holding back a smile. Well, it _was_ rather pathetic to be afraid of darkness when you were twelve years old, but he kept it to himself. Oh right, Ivan was using Mindread.

"I'm sorry," said Ivan, sounding close to tears, "but I _try_—"

He told the boy not to worry about it. At least now when he knew what Ivan was afraid of he'd be able to deal with his fears properly. Ivan brushed his face against Isaac again. He seemed to feel awkward about Isaac speaking to him with thoughts and he didn't seem to be in the mood for talking. Was the spell draining his energy or was he simply tired from travelling? Isaac slipped a hand under the little Wind Adept's hair, lifting the soft blond locks and caressing the back of his neck. He asked Ivan if he was comfortable. He needed to put out the candle.

Ivan gave him a lazy nod as response, closing his eyes. He stayed calm as the light died away this time. Ivan was such a sweet child when he wasn't crying or being disagreeable. Slowly, Isaac lowered himself to the bed as well.

"Don't leave," said Ivan, "please." It sounded more like an order than a request.

Isaac reassured him silently, tucking Ivan back in his arms.

"_Promise_," said Ivan. "Promise you won't let go, Isaac."

I promise.

"Isaac."

Yes?

"Thank you."

For what?

"For everything. Y-you…" Ivan stopped using Mindread and his voice began shaking. "Y-you're my hero, Isaac, you know that? You know I—You know you're- you're—"

His voice died away and he remained quiet with his face pressed against Isaac's chest. Even so, Isaac smiled, brushing his nose against the top of the little Wind Adept's head and inhaling his scent. The compliment was silly and untrue, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

A hero. _Him_? Oh, how he wished for that to be true.

* * *

Marcus came down and roused him at daybreak as requested. The man gave Isaac a few shakes on the shoulder, lit the candle on the nightstand, and left the door wide open.

Isaac groaned. He was surprised the innkeeper actually kept his word. The room was warm and the cot was too cosy. He certainly didn't want to rise so soon, and didn't remember he had to bring Ivan to the square until a bundle of soft blond hair tickled his nose.

Ivan slept peacefully on top of him, and once again Isaac found it hard to justify waking the child. He rolled over and carefully slid Ivan down on the bed. The boy moaned and fumbled around at the lack of warmth, murmuring something in his dreams as usual. But for once, Isaac heard his own name and he smiled as Ivan closed his arms around the duvet and kept sleeping.

Remembering the flattering things Ivan said to him last night, he felt almost sad that he was sending the boy away. Isaac picked up his clothes and dressed himself. He also picked up Ivan's clothes from the floor. As he dusted them off, he found some broken seams on the jacket.

He retrieved his sewing tools from his bags and then seated on the bed to mend Ivan's clothes one last time, closing the jagged slits and cuts on the sleeves and strengthening the weakened seams. He wasn't a tailor, so his work was probably lacking, but at least he _could_ sew. If he had to rely on Garet's survival skills, they probably wouldn't even have made it to the Goma Range.

He turned around and glanced towards the sleeping Adept. To say that Isaac liked the little Wind Adept was an understatement. He would be lying if he was to say he didn't have any selfish motives in sending Ivan to Vale. And he'd be lying if he were to say he didn't enjoy taking care of Ivan and teaching him how to use Psynergy.

Ivan's adoring look made Isaac feel as if he was the most important person in the world. His affection and his trust made Isaac feel he could move mountains and he always felt a comforting warmth when Ivan was close by. He knew he should be angry that Ivan had broken his promise repeatedly and used Mindread on him, but he couldn't. He lashed out on Ivan in Vault not because Ivan read his mind, but rather because he thought Ivan had betrayed him. Save for his crusade to stop Felix, he didn't really have much to hide. It was as he'd told Ivan last night—he was just a peasant with a sword. Even his biggest secret… was known to most people in Vale.

Finishing the last stitch, he cut the thread with his teeth and folded the clothes up. Looking down on the floor, he spotted the yellow scarf he'd previously lent out to Ivan.

He picked it up and dusted it off. This scarf. Isaac wore it because it was Felix's gift. It was his own way of asking Felix if he even meant anything to him anymore. But Felix didn't even bother to face Isaac himself on the lighthouse. Instead, he sent his crony to humiliate him.

The quest had turned into a gamble or a suicide mission. He could no longer convince himself he had a decent chance in bringing Felix back to face justice after the humiliating defeat. But he still needed to try. After Jenna and Felix showed up at the river days earlier, he realized he couldn't give up his mission.

It used to be a personal quest for settling a score with Felix, but things had changed. The legends about Alchemy and the Lighthouses weren't just stories. They were _real_. The Djinn were real too. The Elemental Stars could truly fire the beacons and bring a destructive force back to Weyard.

Isaac didn't hope to be immortalized in history as a hero. But if his pitiful existence could remind Felix of who he used to be and what he stood for, he'd be content. If he could turn Felix back to the light, he'd be a happy martyr. After all, he did say he'd die for Felix and Jenna back when he was a sad boy without friends.

He put away Ivan's jacket and then put on the rest of his gear. Finally, he fastened the scarf around his neck and gently shook Ivan awake, greeting the boy with a reassuring smile. As he helped Ivan put on his clothes, the boy noticed the mended seams and complimented Isaac's kindness again. When Isaac then picked out the wool socks he bought in the market yesterday and gave them to Ivan, the boy bitterly questioned the spending.

"This is _necessary_ spending," said Isaac. "You _need_ warm socks in winter and I don't have time to knit a pair for you."

"You… you can knit?"

"Of course I can. Two of my best friends are girls and—" Isaac cut himself off when he realized he was about to ruin whatever image Ivan had of him. "_Nevermind_," he finished. Surely, Ivan didn't want his hero to be an illiterate moron who could use a needle but not a quill.

As he finished dressing Ivan, tying the sash around his waist, the boy looked up at him with determination. He then suddenly leapt into Isaac's arms, wincing as he crashed his nose into the metal of the stupid breastplate.

Isaac could only respond with an awkward laugh.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," said Ivan firmly. There was an edge in his tone and even certain ominousness if that could even be possible.

Isaac picked up his luggage and then led Ivan upstairs where icy blue light poured in through the windows. The innkeeper was taking the chairs down from the tables and wiping the surfaces with a rag. Seeing Isaac and Ivan arrive in the common room, he gestured to a couple of bowls of warm porridge on the nearest table, saying that the food was on the house.

Isaac didn't know what he'd done to deserve it. Ivan however, smiled sweetly and thanked Marcus for the food. The boy didn't think before digging in, and when Marcus then gave Isaac his money back for renting the store room, Isaac didn't know what to make of the situation. He couldn't even say "thank you".

The innkeeper just gave him a sad smile and a sympathetic look. Isaac almost didn't recognize the jolly innkeeper from yesterday. He ate silently in thought and as soon he and Ivan were done, he finally thanked Marcus properly for his hospitality.

The kindly innkeeper saw him to the door. He smiled meekly towards Ivan and gave Isaac a squeeze and the shoulder before returning to his own business, leaving the Earth Adept even more puzzled about the generosity.

Afterwards, Isaac took the little Wind Adept's hand and left the inn, heading back to the town square where the Xianese merchant had promised to pick Ivan up. The air was cold and frost covered the streets. Ivan didn't seem the least curious about where they were heading, even though they weren't going to the temple. He wasn't using Mindread either.

As they reached the plaza, a squad of Bilibian soldiers had surrounded the caravan from yesterday. The merchants stood gathered next to their carriages, staring at the guards with disdain. Most of them were wrapped in blankets and cloaks, seemingly having been dragged out of their beds. Mothers clutched the youngest children in their arms and fathers and older sons were staring at the guards with hostile looks. Even the merchant Isaac talked to yesterday was standing with a red haired woman, who presumably was his lover or wife, as the guards exited his trailer.

Isaac wondered what had prompted the search and his face paled as the thought of these travellers being thieves. He reached out and grasped Ivan's hand, keeping his gaze on the caravan and the guards.

It took a while, but soon enough the guards were done searching and left the caravan. The travellers shook their heads and several of the men pointed and shook their fists towards the guards as they went back to their wagons. One person even threw a shoe at the watchmen, yelling they owed everyone an apology for scaring their children and messing up their property. The guards didn't care and left the plaza while the travellers began cleaning up the mess.

Seeing that it was safe, Isaac finally led Ivan towards the caravan. Having been humiliated by guards himself, he could understand the travellers' anger.

"Is everything all right," he asked Uncle Ping, knocking on the side of his trailer. The tradesman wasn't in a good mood, busy closing his boxes and picking up the piles of scattered clothing on the floor. He did however recognize Isaac when he saw him at the entrance of the wagon.

The merchant grumbled and put his hat back on, stepping out of the trailer and complaining to Isaac how the guards decided to search the caravan despite having no evidence of any crimes being committed. He then looked towards Ivan and asked if he was the brother Isaac spoke so highly of.

Isaac nodded, putting his hands on Ivan's shoulders and guiding him forward to present him to the merchant.

"He's a bit shy, but a very sweet child," said Isaac, squeezing Ivan's shoulders gently. "I promise he will behave and not cause any trouble."

The merchant stroked his chin and nodded, extending an open palm towards the Adepts.

Ivan looked conflicted and refused to look at the merchant, biting his lip and knitting his eyebrows and using Mindread. Isaac took the sword he had tucked inside his bedroll and handed it over without complaint. The merchant inspected the blade quickly and then pointed back towards his trailer, nodding towards Ivan.

"Who's this person?" said Ivan, sounding awfully glum.

Isaac looked back at the young Adept, who suddenly pushed Isaac's hands away from his shoulders and took a couple of steps back and away from the merchant. Right, he'd forgotten to tell Ivan he's sending him to Vale. Placing his hands on Ivan's upper arms, Isaac looked into the boy's harebell-coloured eyes, smiling reassuringly as he spoke to Ivan through thought:

He's a merchant heading to Kalay. He'll give you a lift home to—

Before Isaac could finish, Ivan immediately quenched his spell, swiping Isaac's arms away and giving him a wounded look. Tears and desperation shone in his blue eyes and he parted his quivering lips and stared at Isaac in disbelief.

"Wh-what do you mean?" said Ivan. He then tried to laugh. "Heh-he… Isaac, you're _not_ sending me away, are you?"

"Child," said Uncle Ping, giving Ivan a friendly smile, and extending a hand towards him, "your brother saw you were homesick and asked us to take you home—"

"I didn't ask _you_!__" shouted Ivan, shooting an angry glare at the merchant. His body was stiff and fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. "He's _not_ my brother and I'm _never_ going with you to Kalay!" Then, he spun around and ran away from the plaza, leaving Isaac in shock.

"Uh… " said the merchant, but Isaac set off after the little Wind Adept almost immediately.

"Give me a minute!" said Isaac. "I'll get him back!"

He sprinted after the boy as a wildfire rose in his gut. Ivan whimpered pathetically as Isaac caught his wrist before he could round the corner of the street. Isaac yanked the little Wind Adept back to face him and he grabbed Ivan's other wrist, holding the boy firmly and preventing him from running away.

"What are you doing?" said Isaac, irritated. "Do you know how long it took to talk him into taking you to Vale?"

Ivan shook his head furiously and didn't seem to have heard anything Isaac said. He was so upset. His face was a mess. He was angry and hurt and he yelled and cried at the same time.

"How could you do this to me?" said Ivan, finally lifting his head to stare back at Isaac. "Have you asked me if I wanted to go? How can you just arrange something like this without _asking!_"

Isaac tried not to let his impatience get the best of him. He let go of Ivan's arms and placed his hands on his shoulders, bending his knees and lowering himself to Ivan's eyelevel.

"You were at the temple," said Isaac soothingly, trying to be as gentle as possible. "I'm not sending you to _Kalay—ulp!_"

He yelped when the boy suddenly grabbed and harshly pulled at his scarf. He shifted around on his feet, trying to stand up properly, but Ivan gripped his breastplate and began shaking him back and forth.

"_You promised!_" Ivan cried. "You promised you wouldn't let me go and now you're sending me away!"

_"__Ivan—stop!__"_

"I told you I have no home to return to! _I trusted you! How_ could you do this to me? I thought you _cared_ about me!"

The abuse wasn't enough to throw Isaac off balance, but it was uncomfortable nonetheless. After another failed attempt to tell Ivan off, Isaac's hand finally crashed into the boy's cheek.

"Are you _deaf?"_ He yelled at Ivan, grabbing his arms and giving him a rough shake for good measure. "I'm not sending you to _Kalay!_ I'm sending you to _Vale!_"

The boy cupped the side of his face. More tears welled up in his eyes and he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly like a fish. His cheek become red and hiccups shook his small frame. Finally, he broke down completely and began weeping helplessly in the middle of the street, his knees giving in and Isaac's forceful hold around his arms was everything preventing him from falling to the ground.

"H-hey…" said Isaac as he immediately regretted his actions. He reached his arms around Ivan's small frame to comfort him, but the boy swatted his hands away and kept screaming about the betrayal.

"_Stop…_" said Isaac. Blood rushed to his face when he noticed a few early rising bystanders staring at them on the streets. "Ivan, stop crying!" he then raised his voice. "_I said stop crying! __You're_ causing a scene!"

He grabbed Ivan's wrist to drag the boy back to the plaza when the voice of a stranger suddenly spoke out:

"And _what_ do you think you're doing?"

A firm hand grasped Isaac's shoulder, and it took him every ounce of self-restraint to not lash out on Ivan _again_.

"Nothing I consider unreasonably wrong," he replied angrily, shaking the stranger's gauntleted hand off from his shoulder and turning around to face the watchman.

"_Really__?_" said a woman behind the guard. "Well, the child's face is telling me another story! André, I bet he's one of those child abductors!"

"Stay out of this if you don't know anything, wench!" retorted Isaac, clenching Ivan's wrist tighter.

"I think you should come with me to the barracks," said the watchman.

"_Why?_" said Isaac, raising his voice. "For _what_ reason are you detaining me? For trying to send _my brother _home?"

Another noisy citizen, a man pushing a wheelbarrow, had stopped to watch the damn spectacle and he chipped in that he saw Isaac struggling with Ivan on the streets.

"I found this nice merchant who could take him home and this stupid kid decides to be rude and make a mess out of everything!" said Isaac. "You don't even _know_ what happened!"

"I saw you punching a _child _in public!"

"I didn't _punch_ him, you blind meddler!"

"André, I recognize that child! He's one of the missing children!"

"You're making it up as you go now, _aren't you?_" Isaac shoved the guard and yanked at Ivan's arm, but he froze upon seeing that the caravan was gone.

Cursing in a fit of anger, he released Ivan to pursue the damn merchant who took his expensive rapier, but the scarf again contracted around his neck as soon he tried to leave. Isaac halted his steps, coughing as the guard quickly closed in, grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back in a lock.

"You're not going anywhere without explanation," said André. "Now come peacefully or I'll break your arm—"

"What explanation do you _want_?" yelled Isaac. "The damn caravan just left! Mount Aleph is spewing _fire and ashes_ everywhere—no one in their right mind wants to go near my village! I paid a _fortune_ just to get someone to take this brat home to Vale, _for faen's sake!_ And thanks to you meddling idiots I've lost the money _and_ the ride!"

Why? _Why_ was this happening to him?

"_Stop!_" said Ivan suddenly, running up to the watchman and grabbing his arm. "Please, don't hurt him! Don't hurt my brother!"

"I thought I _wasn't_ your brother!" said Isaac, giving Ivan a meaningful glare, but André silenced him by lifting his arm higher; threatening to put Isaac on his knees and dislocate his joint in the process.

"Child, this miscreant—"

"It's a misunderstanding, please!"

André wasn't fully convinced.

"Are you _sure_ this is your brother?"

"He's all I have…" Ivan begged through tears. "Please, let him go. We'll behave. Please."

André held onto Isaac for another moment, but then finally let go and threw the Earth Adept to his knees on the ground. The watchman left grudgingly, telling the Adepts not to cause any more trouble.

"_Isaac…_" Ivan gasped and knelt on the streets, trying to take Isaac's hand, but the Earth Adept indignantly shook him off. "Isaac… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, please forgive me!"

Isaac loosened the yellow loop around his neck with shaking hands. He stood up with difficulty, trembling with rage.

"_Sorry?_" he hissed at the Wind Adept. "You think a 'sorry' is enough? I told you _repeatedly_ I was sending you to _Vale_ as _promised_, but if you prefer to stay here in this _godforsaken_ town then _be my guest!_"

He began stomping down the streets, his vision becoming blurred by tears. He didn't know where he was heading but he didn't care. He just didn't want to be where Ivan was. Hearing the Wind Adept following his steps, he rigidly turned back and yelled:

"_Don't follow me!_"

He took another few steps, and Ivan kept following him down the streets. Again, he turned around to point at Ivan with a trembling finger.

"I don't want anything to do with you! You ungrateful brat!"

He turned away, but this time Ivan ran up to him and grabbed his billowing scarf.

"Isaac, _please_, I'm sorry! Don't leave me behind! Where should I go without you?"

Isaac angrily yanked the scarf out of the Wind Adept's hands.

"Just go back to wherever you came from!" he said. "Kalay, Vault, Lunpa or _whatever_! I don't care! You've humiliated me for the last time."

"I'll go wherever _you_ go!" said Ivan. "I want to help you in your mission and—"

"_Help?_" said Isaac. He laughed dryly and turned back to Ivan, lowering his voice to snarl: "Thanks, but no thanks. I've had enough of your 'help'."

He slowly paced towards Ivan, and the boy shakily lifted his small hands in front of him in defence. Isaac pushed Ivan's hands out of the way and then grabbed the front of his green jacket, lifting the boy up to his eyelevel.

"You can't fight," he hissed at Ivan, not caring that he was spitting in his face, "you can't heal, you can't hunt or even cook! For what use are you to me?"

Then he released Ivan, and the boy dropped to his knees on the streets like a marionette without strings. Isaac stared down at him, unmoved, and he turned away to leave. No longer would he have to deal with Ivan's weakness and crying.

"_I can learn!_" Ivan then suddenly pleaded, grabbing the bottom of Isaac's tunic. He walked over to Isaac on his knees and looped his arms around Isaac's right leg, making the Earth Adept freeze up in one part revulsion and two part embarrassment. "Isaac, _I promise_, I'll _learn_ how to hunt! I'll _learn_ how to cook! I'll _learn_ how to heal! _Please__!_ You… You can teach me! You taught me how to fight! You can teach me—!"

"And _look_ what you did to me," said Isaac, removing his glove and showing the fern patterned scar on the back of his hand. "I have thieves to catch and a friend to rescue and you're dragging me down. I should have ditched you here in Bilibin the first time, you useless… good-for-nothing."

Ivan shuddered, but he didn't let go. Instead, he clung on tighter.

"You're a telepath—that's all what you are," whispered Isaac. "All you're good for is being a _spy_. I don't need a spy._"_

He waited, letting the words sink in. He watched Ivan remain on the ground on his knees, and he found no joy in Ivan's suffering despite the wrong he did to him.

"You… you don't mean that." Ivan whispered in denial. "You _can't_ mean that. _Hf_… You _care_. _You care about me! _I'm your _friend_…"

"You can't leave me like this." Ivan cried, sinking even lower to the streets. His hold around Isaac's leg wavered and he then helplessly slid down to grasp his boot, his hair touching the dirt as he lowered his head to the ground. "I have no home. _Hf_… I have no one. You're all I have, Isaac, you're all I have."

Isaac wanted to leave, but his legs were stiff and his arms and shoulders twitched when he tried forcing himself go through with it. He noticed a couple of bystanders pointing at him and question what the child did to deserve the treatment, but they didn't linger for long and left.

Why? Why did this happen? How? How did he go from trying to send Ivan to Vale to abandoning him on the streets? Ivan was abandoned by his family on the Kalayan streets. How could he possibly make Ivan go through this sort of thing twice?

He cast a look towards Lady McCoy's statue on the plaza. What did he expect to happen? Did he expect Lady McCoy's carriage to pass by and pick Ivan up? And then what? Did he truly wish for Ivan to return to his old pitiful life as a human lie detector and never know what it means to be a _person?_

"_Hf_… _Cold_. So cold… _hf_... It's so cold…"

He remembered lying awake in the tent with Ivan in his arms on the journey to Imil. He remembered telling Ivan about Vale. He'd told Ivan about a place where he'd be accepted and even admired for his powers. There haven't been any Wind Adepts born in Vale for centuries, he'd told him, so he would surely be a popular kid. He'd promised to take Ivan to Vale and give him a real home. A home where he wasn't some mighty lord's favourite servant. A home where he could be someone's beloved brother and another person's bright minded son.

* * *

The sun rose and frost glimmered in the morning light. Garet finished packing his bags and bid the monks and refugees in the chapel goodbye. His neck hurt after sleeping on a bench and his eyelids felt heavy.

The refugees said Ivan ran off in the evening and never returned. Garet had spent most of the night running around looking for the Wind Adept on the streets. He'd barely slept and now it was time to report to Isaac about Ivan's disappearance. He sighed, slowly stepping towards the exit and bracing himself to face Isaac's fury. He briefly turned back to the candlelit altar and gave Saint Imil a bow. As he touched the wooden door, a young novice called out for him and handed him a letter.

"For me?" asked Garet.

The child nodded and then went back inside to do his chores, leaving Garet to unfold the letter and read the content.

"Change of plans. I'm not going back to Vale. Leave without me."

The message was written by a fine and foreign hand, but the signature at the bottom was Isaac's.

Garet pushed the door open and ran out of the temple, cursing under his breath. Isaac just told him he _wouldn't_ ditch him yesterday and now he'd done precisely that!

"Wuh_—woah!_"

Tripping over something on the steps, he fell and landed face first to the ground on the glimmering frost. Metals clattered on the streets and as Garet propped himself up on aching hands and knees, he saw scattered pots and pans on the ground. He looked back towards the steps, seeing a drifter with a large blanket wrapped around his head and shoulders.

"S-sorry," said Garet, quickly picking up the cooking utensils for the beggar. "_Sorry!_"

"In a hurry?" asked the beggar in a dismissive tone.

"Y-yeah, sorry," replied Garet. He waved a hand apologetically towards the drifter. He swore he'd bash Isaac's face in once he'd found the delinquent Adept. Putting the pots and pans back in the beggar's bag, he apologized again and then turned away to leave.

"Where're you going?"

Garet turned back to the beggar, wondering why the tramp was so interested in where he was going but then realized it was _Isaac_ under the blanket. The Earth Adept sat on the steps with Ivan resting in between his legs. His arms were wrapped around the boy's torso and his chin rested on Ivan's shoulder.

Confused by the meaning of Isaac's appearance and the contents of his written message, Garet waved the letter in front of Isaac and gave the friend an incredulous stare. When Isaac didn't answer, he stomped back and threw the letter against the Earth Adept's head, asking him outright what kind of stupid joke this was.

To his surprise, Isaac didn't retaliate—he didn't even act indignant. He just looked away like a beaten dog, burying the lower part of his face in Ivan's shoulder. Isaac exhaled and lifted his arms to squeeze Ivan against his chest. And Ivan, he didn't respond to the affection at all, acting more like a human-sized doll than a child. They both seemed to be having a horrible time.

"What happened?"

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

Isaac doesn't handle stress well.


	17. – Sacrifices

**T**he Funny Ogre Inn was usually a merry place, but today was different. Today, the air was cold and dreary and Marcus, the innkeeper, stood silently behind the counter repeatedly cleaning the same spot. Patrons who left in the morning had returned since one needed a special permit to leave the city. Over the months, the town board had been filled up with the portraits of missing children and Lord McCoy had decided to finally remedy his people's demands.

Felix gazed over his breakfast towards the kindly innkeeper. Marcus had tried numbing his mind with work ever since his son and daughter disappeared.

Stirring the water within his cup, Felix looked at his faint reflection.

Thick greasy hair hung from both sides of his face and a fake beard was glued under his nose and chin. He even had a fake scar on his right cheek. Since Jenna threw away his cloak, Menardi had given him hers. It was red. Felix didn't like red. It didn't suit him at all. The rest of his clothes were also a mix and match of donations from the refugees. He wasn't fond of his disguise, since the glue and makeup made his face constantly itch, but at least no one recognized the Traitor of Vale.

He'd grown accustomed to Jenna's verbal abuse over the months and learnt to turn a deaf ear to her insults about his appearance and weakness. But her words by the river cut deep.

Jenna asked why he couldn't be her brother. She asked why he couldn't be the brother he used to be. She said all she wanted was to have her brother back. Was that really too much to ask?

What would his parents say? He used to think he knew the answer to that question, but Jenna had shaken his faith. He'd found himself lying awake at night for hours, questioning if he still was the Felix his family and friends missed.

If he died in the mission, there wouldn't be much to think of. But what if he survived? He'd previously sworn to take his life as atonement for the deaths of Isaac and Garet, but now he knew they were alive and furious. Could he ever go back to Vale after this misadventure? Did he have the courage to face the consequences of his actions?

He sighed, lifting the cup and taking a sip.

He wondered what role he even had in this quest.

Last night when he asked Menardi about her plan, she refused to give him a proper answer and instead disregarded his worries as childishness. It made Felix wonder why Menardi dragged him after her trails if she thought of him as a nuisance.

Her mission was more important than anything else in the world. She'd do anything to succeed and sacrifice anyone for the mission. At least two allies were dead because of her poorly executed plan, and more than seven were imprisoned in Prox for buying her time to escape. Then she left Saturos to die at the Lighthouse. And if it hadn't been for Felix, she would've handed Alex over to the Imilian Watch just to have someone less to worry about.

"Well, isn't it Tyr?" Marcus suddenly called out to the patron entering the inn. "Back again?"

"Yes, Marcus," replied a man in a large blue cape and wide brimmed hat. He seemed to be a father or uncle, travelling with two children. "Seems like I'm not getting out of town today."

"Terribly sorry about that," said Marcus, "I suppose you'll be staying for another night then? You're not interested in singing tonight? I haven't found a new minstrel yet."

"Not tonight, I have some business to attend to. Still trying to track down Ana and Hilda's aunt, you see. You don't happen to know a certain Petra Andrews?"

Felix winced upon hearing the children and the alleged aunt's name. He almost jumped out of his chair when he noticed the girls travelling with the caped stranger were the orphaned twins from the fishing village up north. Felix squinted, but the shadow of the man's hat obscured his face. Didn't Felix ask Matilda to take care of them? He was worried, but seeing Ana so chipper and answering the innkeeper's casual questions made Felix feel slightly safer about their current guardian.

Marcus walked around the counter and guided the guests to the closest table. The innkeeper was kind enough to even help the caped man to the chair. He then pointed towards the kitchen and left to bring them their meals. The stranger finally removed his hat, placing it on the table.

Saturos's large blue cloak was slung over his shoulders and held together with a cheap penannular brooch on the left side of his breast. An old padded jacket covered his upper body and a blindfold veiled his eyes and conveniently hid his long pointed ears. Unlike Felix, he didn't need makeup to add a beard on his chin. He also wore an amulet made out of a pinecone and feathers, and Felix wondered how close he was with the twins.

Hilda, the younger twin, sat quietly, looking anxiously around. She whispered something to her guardian and the northlander calmly told her not to worry. Her sister Ana played with Saturos's hat. She spun around on her chair and then suddenly met Felix's gaze.

Felix quickly looked away, pretending he didn't know them, but it was too late.

"Uncle Tyr, look!" said Ana, pointing. "It's Felix!"

She didn't wait for her guardian's permission before skipping over to the Earth Adept's table.

"Hi, Felix!"

Felix didn't look at the girl. He wasn't sure whether to deny her claim or greet her with a smile. He felt increasingly uncomfortable in his skin and the fake beard began itching again. Saturos called for the girl to not bother the other patrons, but Ana ignored him.

"What's wrong with your face, Felix?" said Ana, reaching out to touch the fake scar on his face. "Were you also hurt by bandits?"

Felix caught her wrist and with a resigned sigh, he answered:

"Yeah, I'm surprised you even recognized me…"

Ana propped her chin up on her hands and grinned.

"Everyone in the village says I'm eagle-eyed," she replied. "You can't hide from me, eeh-heeh-hee."

Felix forced a smile to his lips. He gave Ana a pat on the head and then awkwardly looked towards Hilda and Saturos.

"Uncle Tyr!" said Ana. "Come here! It is Felix!"

"Really?" said Saturos with an indifferent smile.

"Yes! He's just wearing different clothes!"

"Well, then. Should we head over and say hello too, Hilda?"

He reached out a hand to the girl, and then led her over to Felix's table. Saturos carried a small bag of supplies and a hatchet hung from his belt. Apparently, he couldn't afford a replacement sword.

Felix gestured towards the other chairs around the table silently. Saturos didn't respond to the invitation.

"Can I sit?" he asked instead.

"Sure, have a seat," replied Felix. He was about to help his former mentor to the table but Ana was quick to guide her "Uncle Tyr" to the chair.

"So," said Saturos with a light cough, "how's it been? I can't seem to hear your fierce leader around here."

"Yeah, where is Mirandi?" said Ana.

"Uhm… she went to buy something," replied Felix.

"Liar," Hilda whispered, looking away.

Felix briefly looked at the little girl for a moment. Her head was held low and she gripped the northlander's hand tightly. Yes, something bad definitely happened since Felix and Menardi's leave—that's why the twins were travelling with Saturos and not Matilda.

"Where's Matilda?" Felix asked cautiously. "Where's the rest of the caravan?"

The northlander sat quietly with a sardonic smile for a moment. He then rubbed his forehead and chuckled half-heartedly. Hilda hugged her guardian's arm tighter, and Saturos nodded meekly. Even Ana fell silent and gave Felix a judging look. None of them wanted to speak about it. Seconds later, Marcus returned with a tray of food, placing the bowls and plates on the table with a smile and wishing everyone a nice meal.

Finally, Felix raised his hands above his head, palms facing up. He stared at Saturos and the twins, silently asking what crime he'd committed against them.

"What did I do?" he asked them soundly. "Why are you giving me those faces?"

Saturos burst out in laughter, but the children stayed quiet.

"What's so funny?" asked Felix. "Something horrible obviously happened. Why are the twins with you?" It didn't surprise him at all that Saturos would depart from the caravan, but he wanted to know why the orphans were travelling with _him_ of all people.

The northlander ceased his laughter, drawing a hand over the lower half of his face as he inhaled deeply.

"Who did you expect to keep them alive if not me?" he then asked bitterly. "Matilda? Gleb? Or _Sacha?_"

"Matilda promised—"

Saturos didn't wait for him to finish before throwing his hands up in the air and making a ridiculous gesture towards Felix.

"See Hilda, this is what I was talking about when I said he's too naïve for his own good."

"Instead of making fun of me," said Felix, starting to become annoyed, "how about you tell me what happened?"

"Obviously, Matilda lied to you," replied Saturos, gesturing towards the Earth Adept with an open hand. "I'm _blind, _and I still saw through her lies!"

Felix stared back at his former mentor for a moment, expecting further explanation, but Saturos offered none. The northlander was about to put his hand in the porridge in front of him, but the heat tipped him off and he began fumbling after a spoon. Felix sighed and shook his head.

"Ana," he said, putting a reassuring hand on the child's shoulder. "What happened to you? Why aren't you with Matilda?"

Ana dodged his gaze and briefly tugged Saturos's sleeve.

"Go on, tell him what happened," said the Fire Adept. "Tell him why you're travelling with me, instead of that old witch."

Ana shook her head and stayed quiet. Saturos sighed.

"Hilda overheard the old hag planning to sell them to the rich folks as servants. The children would've run off into the woods on their own if I didn't catch them stealing food supplies in the middle of the night."

A pang of guilt made Felix's throat constrict. He cast a wide look at the children and then wondered what could possibly have happened to Jenna and Alex if the refugees didn't even care about the two orphans. Alex was generally well-liked by most people but he was a known criminal now, and most of the people hated Jenna for being unable to keep her big mouth shut. Looking back to Saturos and the twins, Felix felt he needed to make his statement about the abandonment.

"I… I didn't ask for this," said Felix. He could see the children staring at him apprehensively. "I'm sorry about what happened, but I'm not making the decisions. Menardi even forced me to get rid of Jenna."

"No one wished for this," replied Saturos calmly, taking a sip from his flagon. "I'm blind. I'm a burden. I'm a loose cannon. I'm not worth the trouble."

_Krr…_

Felix absently looked towards the front door. A group of six men in ostentatious clothing stepped in. Their hats had huge feathers and ribbons attached to them and their outfits consisted of several layers of slashed colourful fabric. These were members of the mercenary band Ilya's Arrows and modesty definitely wasn't their forte. One of the men exchanged words with the innkeeper, and as they headed upstairs Felix noticed them all carrying heavy crossbows, which seemed a bit suspicious to say the least. Was there a manhunt for someone hiding in the inn? Were they after _him_?

Felix looked towards Marcus. The innkeeper met his gaze and smiled, waving, which made Felix slightly less worried.

"So much trouble over a few gems," muttered Saturos, catching Felix's attention.

"You're _kidding_, right?" Felix hissed back in a low voice. "Those relics are the reason for my people's existence." He couldn't believe Saturos would say something so ridiculous after Isaac almost _murdered_ him in cold blood. "Did you honestly think the templars would let us go? You were almost _annihilated_ for just simply knowing the _existence_ of the Stars on your _first_ trip."

Saturos grimaced and shrugged his shoulders, seemingly not having a care in the world.

"Let's say I definitely didn't expect to be kicked out halfway by that cutthroat leader of yours for simply trying to help."

"We didn't need you to stall!"

"Stall? _Hah_, not what _I_ had in mind but keep believing whatever you want."

The mention of Menardi's recent decisions filled Felix with regret. For a moment he stayed silent as Saturos and the children proceeded to eat.

"Has she always been this way?" Felix then finally asked.

"Worried about your own skin?" said Saturos with a grin, lifting his spoon and pointing it towards Felix's direction.

Felix didn't reply, but he knew the northlander spoke the truth. If Menardi was willing to kick Saturos out after he was blinded, then it was just a matter of time before Felix's usefulness was at an end.

"I don't know her well, to be honest," continued Saturos. "Never understood what Rhennac saw in her. She's not even pretty. Seriously, Felix, she's old enough to be your mother."

"Wh-what?" Felix raised his hands in front of him and stared at his former mentor in bewilderment. "I was talking about her as a leader, not—_ugh_!"

He cringed and put his hands to the sides of his head while Saturos guffawed in a truly fake manner.

"You're incredibly chipper after being abandoned in foreign lands," said Felix, shaking his head and pressing a palm against his forehead. "You don't really care about the mission, do you?"

"Is that your opinion or are you simply parroting your leader's words?" replied Saturos. "No wonder your sister calls you a slave."

"What do _you_ know about my sister?" snapped Felix. "She calls people names whenever she doesn't get her way all the time. She called you a thug! Are you a thug?"

The northlander gave Felix a slight shrug with his shoulders. He then lifted his bowl and proceeded to shovel porridge into his mouth. Felix sighed and shook his head again, his gaze wandering towards the window.

Menardi had been gone for quite a while.

"So, what about you?" asked the northlander, putting his empty bowl down and pointing at Felix with his spoon again. "Tell me what you plan to do afterwards." He lowered the spoon into the bowl and picked up the flagon. As Felix didn't answer, he continued:

"Let's assume best case scenario and you _do_ succeed firing the beacons. Then _what_? What's your plan after that?"

Felix silently lowered his hands under the table, forgetting for a moment that Saturos was blind and couldn't see his itchy reactions. The northlander could however hear Felix's hesitant tone perfectly:

"Wh-what do you mean?"

Saturos chuckled.

"You _know_ what I mean, Felix. What's your plan when this is all over? Do you plan to return to Vale and reform the temple? Live the life of the famed adventurer who saved the world? Or retire as a nameless hermit? What do _you_ want?"

Felix averted his eyes. He honestly didn't know the answer for that question. Alex would've gone back to his hometown and reformed the temple. He said he wanted glory, if his words were to be taken seriously. Menardi would probably also go home—her pride dictated her to go back to show the Guardians of Mars up. Saturos's motive however, was an enigma. As of now, it seemed more that he was using the mission as an excuse to get away from the north than anything else.

"You don't seem to mind that Menardi kicked you out of the warband," said Felix. "Even after you gave up your life in Prox for the mission and became a renegade."

Saturos froze briefly with the flagon against his lips. He then took another sip and replied:

"Nice try, kid, but I see you're trying to dodge my question. I will ask again: What do you want and what are you expecting to gain from the completion of this mission? You say you're not a slave, yet you can't answer something as simple as that."

Yes, what did Felix want out of this? What would he gain?

Nothing. His father volunteered because Rhen threatened to kidnap someone innocent to use as a guide. And Felix volunteered because he refused to let his crippled father go on the dangerous journey.

He was roped into the mission after overhearing Rhen and Menardi's plans in the temple's library. Rhen said they needed a guide in Vale and mentioned having to settle for an insufferable cripple when they could pick up any healthy Earth mage from Vale.

Felix attacked him. He'd never hurt anyone with Psynergy before, but he launched a bench at Rhen that evening. He knew Saturos was a man of honour and Menardi seemed to have morals, but _Rhen_? Rhen openly hated the Valians and everyone knew he was bitter after losing his arm in a fight with the Templars of Vale. Felix couldn't trust Rhen. What if he tried to off his father after he no longer was useful? At least Felix would be able to fight back if Rhen turned on him afterwards.

In hindsight, it was quite obvious that Menardi and Rhen had staged the conversation to goad Felix into offering himself, but at the time, he was simply disgusted with how Rhen mocked his father's bravery. Felix had liked the idea of his father being heroic and offering himself as a guide to spare someone innocent. Now, he wondered if everything hadn't been a complete lie. His father never mentioned anything to the family about the mission and it seemed very unlikely that Menardi would consider taking a cripple with her if she thought a blind man was too much of a burden.

"Will you ever see again?" asked Felix hesitantly, looking at Saturos again.

"Me? Doubtful. Neither Menardi nor Alex could heal my eyes, and the priests in this town couldn't work any miracles either." Saturos shrugged with a crooked smile. "Guess I'll have to get used to being blind now."

Felix bit his lip. If he'd known Isaac and Garet would fight so viciously, he would've stayed at the Lighthouse and tried explaining to them about the whole ordeal, but it was too late now.

"So, do you know where Jenna and Alex went?" Felix then finally.

The northlander shook his head. Felix averted his eyes.

"I paid people to bring Jenna back to Vale…"

"And they took your money," replied Saturos wryly. He then turned towards the children. "Eat up, girls. Your Aunt Petra won't like you if you're all scrawny and she certainly won't like me if she sees I'm letting you starve.

"I'm full," said Ana.

"And you, Hilda?"

"Me too."

Saturos let Ana put his hat back on his head. He picked up his bag, placed a single piece of silver on the table, and then lifted Hilda to his arms.

"You're overpaying," said Felix.

"Then consider _your_ meal paid."

"Where did you get all that money?"

"I have my ways."

"You're blind… Are you sure you should—"

"Hah-ha, you're worried about _me_?" asked the northlander with a smile.

Felix sighed and looked at the twins.

"I'm worried about the girls. There are child abductors in town and—"

Saturos stifled a laugh. He then lowered his voice and whispered:

"That's sweet, kid, but dread not; my eyes are blind, but my mind is not. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but the town's on lockdown because one of those kidnapping scoundrels was captured yesterday. He revealed the names of the rest of his partners in crime. McCoy didn't take lightly to a _blind foreigner_ showing his men up."

Felix shamefully averted his eyes. He wanted to help, but Saturos didn't need help. He was fine on his own. Dourly, he watched his former mentor leave the table with the twins, feeling inadequate since even a blind man fared better than him in town.

"Ah yes, I almost forgot," said the northlander, stopping in the doorway. "Did you recover Rhen's sword?"

"N-no," replied Felix, "Jenna got rid of it."

"Good! That blade should have been cast away long ago. I was beginning to worry since you're alone with Menardi of all people."

Felix silently wondered if Saturos was relieved that he no longer was obliged to train Felix if he no longer had a sword.

"You're not Rhen," said Saturos. "You will never be Rhen. It's about time you start thinking for yourself and making your own decisions. Rhennac might have been my brother and a diviner, but he wasn't always right."

Felix silently looked away in thought.

"I'll leave you be," said the northlander, heading out.

"Saturos."

"Ah-huh?"

"Thank you," said Felix.

"Safe travels, kid," replied Saturos.

"Bye Felix!" said the older twin.

"Goodbye Ana," Felix whispered, watching the group leave.

He sighed as Marcus came to pick up the payment. While waiting for Menardi, Felix counted the returning patrons who complained about the lockdown. He pondered about Saturos's questions as well.

What did _Felix_ want out of this quest? Felix never thought much of that. When he set off from Prox, he travelled with a warband of brothers and sisters. Now only he and Menardi remained. When he thought of it, Felix realized he had more regrets. And one of them was not saying good-bye to his parents before leaving the north.

"Hey," said Marcus.

Felix looked up as the innkeeper passed an envelope over the table to him.

"I was asked to give this to you."

Felix hesitantly took the envelope as the innkeeper went back to his desk. Opening it, he found a bronze brooch and a lock of dark red hair in addition to the note. The letter was the very same he wrote to Jenna almost a week ago and on the backside was a message in red ink asking to meet outside in a nearby alley.

All the colours drained from Felix's face and he gazed towards Marcus behind the counter. He flew out of his chair and ran up to the innkeeper, waving the letter in front of Marcus and demanding to know who'd given him this.

Marcus looked back with a bewildered look, saying it was a traveller whose face he couldn't recall. Felix knitted his eyebrows and he rigidly turned towards the exit, storming out. He ran to the alley just outside of the tavern where the kidnapper had requested to meet, swearing he'd kill the scoundrel who dared laying a hand on his sister.

No one was waiting there and he desperately looked at the message again to see if he'd missed any details. But as he did that, a sharp pain cut into his leg and his knee gave in, dropping him to the ground. He could barely grasp that he'd walked right into an ambush before another arrow pierced his back and knocked him down to his hands and knees. He reached an arm around, but he couldn't reach the projectile lodged under his shoulder blade and causing him pain. He looked up towards the building surrounding him, trying to spot the assailant but his tears blurred his vision.

A third arrow pierced his hand and Felix let out a breathy gasp, clutching his wrist. He grasped the arrow and used Psynergy, snapping it in two and removing the pieces from his hands as his Psynergy closed the wound.

"Show yourself—!" Felix spoke behind clenched teeth, and his eyes began to water. "Y-you—you spineless—"

He couldn't finish the sentence before the assailant bludgeoned him on the back of the head, sending him into a world of blurry images and then endless darkness.

* * *

"Get up boy!" said Rhen, shouting in the darkness. "Get up, _get up!_"

Rhen's tall shadow loomed over Felix as the calm night was disturbed by a distant battlecry. Felix propped himself up from the frozen ground, his hands and knees aching as Rhen went back to drag him up to his feet. The Wind Adept's blade gleamed in the moonlight and his claret eyes glowered at Felix's miserable form. The green cape draped over his right shoulder billowed in the wind; revealing empty space where his right arm used to be, and his long dark braid was almost completely loose from running.

Felix chattered teeth, shoving his frigid fingers under his sleeves as Rhen pulled him aside to avoid the patrol on the main street. The two Guardians of Mars failed to notice the renegades and ran past the group. Yet, Rhen felt the need to clamp a filthy hand over Felix's mouth even though the Earth Adept hadn't spoken a single word since he was dragged out of the library through the window. He didn't let go until their footsteps had died away and Felix spat and wiped his mouth in disgust afterwards, feeling that the diviner purposely did that to spite him.

_Bamm! PAFF!_

Red fireworks shone in the western part of the city, a signal calling in reinforcements. Rhen gestured to his two brothers to regroup at the shipyard as quickly as possible. He opened his brooch, releasing his cape and then sweeping it around Felix's frail body.

"Don't mess it up for my brothers," he told Felix before heading down the west path of the main street, soundlessly vanishing into the night.

"We have half an hour at most to get to the sea before the whole order mobilises," said Saturos. "Do you have the orb?"

Darius retrieved a wooden lockbox from his bag and handed it to his younger brother. Saturos turned the box around, cursing as he took notice of what type of lock it had.

"I swear by the Saints—" began Saturos.

"_Save it!_" said Darius, pushing the lockbox into his brother's arms and turning around in alarm. "We have company."

"Hey you!" A distant voice called out to them and a warhorn sounded immediately afterwards.

Darius defensively raised a hand towards Saturos and Felix.

"Take the kid and head to the shipyard, brother," said Darius, raising his battle axe and large shield. "I'll hold them off."

"Be careful," Saturos replied. "That's Reyvigne."

"Never lost a fight against that string bean."

Saturos shook his head with a sigh, but he shoved Felix ahead.

"_Move!_" he told Felix as magic flames illuminated the streets.

Darius took a steady stance and deflected the incoming flame javelin with his round shield as Felix was dragged away from the scene by Saturos. They ran southwards, hiding and zigzagging around buildings to avoid the worried fishermen as they ran to the eastern side of the wharf.

The shipyard was almost empty, although a faint blue light shone like a guiding beacon as a lone priest slowly lowered a large ship into the sea with his spell. A tail of red light suddenly flashed from the shadows and Saturos darted forward, launching his sword from his hand like a spear.

A shriek cut through the night and the assailant dropped instantly from the attack. The priest finished lowering the ship into the water before turning around. Felix recognized Delic, the librarian. The priest was just as surprised to see Felix and Saturos as Felix was to see him.

"Saturos?" said Delic. "I thought you'd rather sit in your forge for the rest of your days than associate yourself with this mission again."

"I changed my mind," replied the swordsmith.

"Well, do you have the orb?"

Saturos raised the lockbox and shook an open palm towards the librarian.

"Key?"

The priest searched his pocket and fished out a key, handing it over to Saturos. As he fidgeted with the lock, Felix wondered how many people were actually involved in this mission. In the beginning he thought only Menardi and Rhen only had a couple of accomplices, but from what he'd seen it seemed like Saturos's entire family and many more were involved.

"It's stuck!" said Saturos. "These _old_ locks! I hate them!" He cursed, saying he'd taken his axe to the box if the content wasn't fragile.

"I'll board the ship and set up the signal." Delic threw his grappling hook towards the ship. He turned his head aside and then cursed. "_Incoming!_ Hide yourselves!"

"What—?"

_Klick_.

The lid of the lockbox opened as Saturos looked away towards the road.

_Donk…_

Felix dove for the glass sphere falling out of the box, clumsily chasing it across the bridge but he failed catching it before it fell into the freezing water with a _Plonk!_

"No…" Saturos swept his hand over the surface and lit up the area with a small flame, but Felix saw nothing but their distorted reflections in the waves. The ship began drifting away. Yellow flames then suddenly illuminated the entire shipyard and looking back, Felix saw the Guardians of Mars greeting them with flaming spears and blazing swords.

They were vastly outnumbered—two against twelve at least, since Delic had flown off.

"Tired of making blades, so you've decided to make a name of yourself?" asked one of the Guardians.

"_Reyvigne!_" said Saturos, greeting the Guardians with a smile. "Dear brother! How I hate it when the odds are not in my favour."

"Then perhaps you should lay down your weapons and surrender," replied Reyvigne.

"Don't worry!" said Saturos quickly, raising empty hands and stepping forward. "I'm unarmed! You know how _stupid_ your little brother is. I am _easily_ tricked into _villainous_ schemes!"

"Very funny, Saturos, but you can't fool me with a lie that thin—"

"Yeah, you're right, I volunteered."

The sword he'd thrown away earlier came to life and flew to his hand, cutting through the air and injuring at least three of the enemies, including Reyvigne, before the fight even began.

"And here's from _me_!"

A cold shining star fell from the sky and landed in the crowd, dazzling the combatants and covering the entire shipyard in mist.

"Delic! You traitor!" said Reyvigne.

Saturos's magic sword was suddenly sent flying across the battlefield, falling to the ground at Felix's feet. Looking back, one of the Guardians stood over the swordsmith with his battle axe raised. The strike was narrowly blocked by the long shaft of an ally's polearm.

"Menardi?" said the Guardian, but his former captain hit him with the shaft of the polearm and then kicked him to the ground. She quickly pulled Saturos up to his feet and shoved him aside before returning to the fight. Felix could hear from the voices that Menardi wasn't the only person who'd arrived for the rescue.

A shadow suddenly swept past the battlefield towards Felix and before he knew it, Rhen had grabbed the front of Felix's tunic and lifted him to his feet.

"Where's the orb?" asked Rhen.

Felix shakily pointed into the water and Rhen dropped him to the bridge. The diviner's eyes shone in a ghostly light as he dove into the water without a second thought. The waves lit up in a white ethereal light and within five seconds Rhen surfaced, having retrieved the lost artefact and holding it up high above his head.

Felix was about to take it when Delic swung down on a rope from the stern of the ship. He grabbed Rhen's hand, pulled him and the orb out of the water and then swung back towards the vessel.

The magic sword next to Felix glowed and once again flew towards its owner's hand. The fog was clearing. Felix could see that more allies were fighting now, but the amount of enemies had also increased. Menardi was fending off enemies left and right with her polearm. Maiken worked her way to the front rank with her spear, covering Galen and Saturos's backs with her spells. More Guardians were pouring in from the main street to suppress the oathbreakers. The chances of winning this battle had just become very slim.

Suddenly a warm wind blew in from the sea and Felix turned towards the ship. The vessel shone brilliantly, spilling light from its windows and openings. It stopped drifting and then turned, setting its course to south. A loud warhorn sounded and Felix heard the screams of distracted fighters being cut down.

"_The ship!_" said Menardi. "Everyone, _to the ship!_"

Felix could barely move his feet, standing in shock in front of all the fire and bloodshed. He gasped when Delic returned to the bridge, laying an arm around Felix's torso and then swinging him back towards the vessel. Majority of the allies tried breaking up their fights, but many were incapacitated when they tried making a run for the ship. He tried to look away from the carnage, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the dead and wounded being trampled on the ground.

* * *

He blinked. His head ached and his limbs hurt. He felt highly uncomfortable propped up on the chair with his hands tied behind its back and his feet tied to its legs. His cape, coat, boots and socks were gone and someone had unceremoniously cut off half of his fringe. Gazing around, he found himself in a neatly decorated room darkened by shadows. The only light came from the small opening of the almost closed casement.

Painfully, he hobbled over towards the window; bringing the chair with him, but a gloved hand appeared from behind and slammed on top of the casement, effectively foiling whatever plan he had for alerting the world of his predicament.

The slender arm was attached to a short man wearing bright green and red. His outfit was made out of several layers of cut and slit fabric and his undershirt and collar were bleached snow white. A wide brimmed hat heavily decorated with feathers and ribbons cast his face in shadows but Felix glimpsed a smile on the effeminate man's lips. The youth walked around, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. He swept his feathered hat off in one clean motion, and locks of red hair cascaded downwards to frame a very familiar face.

"Missed me?" asked Jenna.

"_Jenn_…" Felix tried to speak, but his breath was stuck in his throat and his mouth bone dry.

"I thought you didn't care what happened to me," said Jenna, grinning haughtily. "But you still came _running_ after hearing I was in danger."

She poured up a cup of hot tea on the table and raised it towards Felix, who pursed his lips. His sister mockingly began blowing it cool.

"Come on, big brother, it's cool now," said Jenna, speaking in a mock up sweet tone. "This is really expensive stuff from Xian. You won't get another chance to try it."

Felix closed his lips tightly, vigorously shaking his head. He didn't care how parched his mouth was. He wasn't accepting a drink from Jenna after she set up an ambush for him. What could she possibly have put in that tea? This was unbelievable. Here he'd been worried about her, fearing she'd been kidnapped while she…

"Come on… It's just tea."

Jenna brought the cup to his lips, but Felix painfully closed his eyes and turned his face away. He was surprised she didn't splash the tea in his face like she did with the soup in Vault. She wanted to gloat. She wanted to humiliate him. And she'd succeeded.

"Wh-what… d'you want?" he said weakly.

"You know what, Felix?" said Jenna. "It just feels _really_ good—watching you _squirm_."

He'd been squirming ever since she decided to follow him and sowing discord rather than go back to Vale like a normal person would. But if all she wanted was to hear him beg, then he would grant her wish.

"Sorry—"

"Sorry?" said Jenna with a wry laugh. "You think a 'sorry' is enough?"

"I've nothing else to give you," Felix replied. He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe he'd have to negotiate for his own life against the sister he'd tried to protect ever since this misadventure began.

As silence filled the room, the noise outdoors became louder. People were cheering outside. McCoy and his wife were probably holding a parade of sorts. It didn't matter. Felix was too miserable to watch anyway. He lifted his gaze briefly to look at Jenna, but averted his eyes when he found her staring back. Neither sibling spoke for a while, but eventually Jenna opened half of the casement wide, letting cold winter air and the evening sun in.

"Hear that noise?" said Jenna innocently, putting a hand next to her ear. "What do you think is going on outside, big brother?"

Felix didn't reply.

"Where do you think the witch is?" asked Jenna. "Do you think she misses you? You've been gone for _hours_, after all."

Felix refused to entertain his sister any further.

"I guessed so," said Jenna with a snort. "Slaves don't question their masters, right?"

"What… are you going to do with me?" Felix dejectedly asked, ignoring the insult. "Drag me back to Vale?"

"Oh, I _will_," said Jenna, finally dropping her game, "don't you worry about _that_, Felix." Her eyes widened as she stared right into his soul.

_Tk_.

Felix glanced at the letter his sister threw on the table. The way she was torturing him made Felix question if she ever read the letter—or made someone else read it for her. Sitting tied up like this made him question if telling her about their parents even was a good idea. It seemed more likely that she'd drag him back to Vale and rally an army for the invasion of Prox and rescue their family rather than letting him go.

Images of the fire and blood on the Proxian shipyard filled his mind and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a mistake that would lead to more meaningless deaths.

Hearing the cheering and jeering growing louder, Felix threw a glance out of the window. He couldn't see anything, but he noted that he was held captive on at least the second floor of the building. He wondered if he should scream. If he screamed, would anyone hear him over the noise? Would anyone come to his rescue?

"Oh right," said Jenna with a scornful smile. "I forgot you can't see the show. Let me fix that."

"N-no!"

He shook his head, not wanting to be humiliated further, but Jenna didn't care. She grabbed his chair, opened the window completely and dragged him over to it. The sunlight stung his eyes and he squinted.

"Now, look," said Jenna.

Felix let out a defeated sigh and looked down, seeing a crowd had gathered on the sides of the street. There was no parade however, and following the crowd's gazes Felix laid eyes on two fighters duelling on a rope tied across and high above the street. He didn't recognize the first fighter since his back faced Felix, but he could clearly see Menardi fending off attacks with a sword and buckler on the other side.

"Wh—" Felix almost bit his tongue and he turned back towards his sister who now was holding a crossbow in her arms and seemingly aiming a shot at Menardi. "Don't!"

"Don't what?" asked Jenna.

"Don't shoot. Please."

"Why not?" said Jenna. "She's _cheating_."

Felix looked towards the duel again. He noticed the gleaming glow beneath Menardi's feet. She couldn't balance on the rope, so she used Psynergy to create a surface to stand on. The masses couldn't see it, but Felix and Jenna; being Adepts, could see the gleaming magic floor covering the rope under her feet. And she needed that advantage since she was fighting some sort of acrobat who seemingly could leap from one side to the other and make somersaults in the air—all the while attacking with his sword. Wait. That dark-haired mercenary was an Adept too. Felix couldn't tell which Element he was aligned with since his Psynergy was so weak, but he was _clearly an Adept_. He was using Psynergy assisted jumps! Rhen did that when he jumped from rooftop to rooftop! How could Jenna shoot Menardi for cheating when _her champion_ was cheating too?

"She's good," said Jenna thoughtfully, "I'd give her that. I wouldn't be able to hide my Psynergy that well in a fight. But cheating is cheating…"

"He's cheating too," said Felix.

"Ming is not an Adept. He can't cheat."

"He's using Psynergy assisted jumps! You can _see_ it!"

"No, he's using this… inner flow thing." Jenna lowered her crossbow to make a circling gesture with her hand. "He called it '_shee'_ or something."

"_I don't care_. You're not shooting _anyone_ with that thing…"

Jenna shrugged.

"Fine, now convince the rest of the gang not to shoot."

Felix looked around again, and then saw several more men with crossbows sitting at the windows in the building on the other side. He had no idea why this ridiculous fight was taking place, but he knew that it was rigged. Even if Menardi won, they'd shoot her—all according to Jenna's plan, probably.

Felix let out a pained mewl. This was his fault. This was all his fault. He was stupid enough to walk right into a trap and now everyone else would pay the price. Jenna wanted to hurt _him_. She was convinced he was a lost cause. So the best way to hurt him was to force him to watch his last ally die horribly.

"You know what, Felix?" said Jenna, putting the hat back on her head and tucking her hair underneath. "Menardi agreed to duel for _you_. Think about that for a while. But I wonder… will she _lose_ because of you."

Jenna put her finger on the trigger.

"No!" Felix cried out, but she shot anyway.

She missed by a landslide, but both combatants saw the shot. Menardi quickly backed away, breaking away from the fight and her opponent froze as well, seeing something was amiss. Felix realized that Menardi was staring at _him_ while Jenna playfully nudged him on the side of the head with the crossbow.

The crowd was getting impatient with the intermission of the fight. Menardi looked back to her opponent, who seemed to gesture to the rest of his allies not to shoot. That's right; even _he_ refused to claim that kind of victory.

Menardi repositioned herself, raising her sword and buckler and nodding towards her opponent. The mercenary raised his blade as well—he didn't use any offhand—and attacked. He was fast and Menardi missed a parry with the buckler, taking a glancing strike to the forearm. She aimed a thrust at his chest and then followed with a slash to the legs when he dodged the first strike. The mercenary avoided the second attack as well. He jumped, stepped on her blade, and leapt over her, knocking her off balance and counterattacked from behind.

Menardi embraced the fall, dropping below the rope and avoiding the attack. With one hand clutching the rope, she swept her sword upwards with the other in a clean cutting motion, severing the line. As she swung back to one side of the building, the other Adept fell.

Glancing down towards the streets, Felix saw the mercenary land safely on his feet among the cheering of the crowds, using his Psynergy and leaps and whatnot. Yet, he sheathed his blade and gave Menardi a bow and a strange salute while the rest of his friends with the crossbows packed up and removed themselves from their posts.

Felix gasped and wiped his tears on his sleeve as his sister finally untied him from the chair. His limbs were numb and his joints hurt. Even when he was free, he remained on the chair with his head hanging low. He shuddered from the cold as Jenna finally closed the window with a grin and then poured up another cup of tea for him, mockingly patting his head with a soft hand. Felix shakily picked up the teacup to warm his hands, trying not to chatter teeth as he looked back at his sister. She seemed proud of what she'd done and couldn't seem to stop smiling.

"_Vincent!_" a man then suddenly called from the corridor.

_K-CHAK._

Felix almost dropped the teacup when the door swung open and a person in similar dress as Jenna stepped in. Long brown curls rested on his shoulders and a thin beard was drawn under his nose. His eyes were dark and his expression was a downward smile. His eyes flicked, looking from Felix to Jenna in confusion. Felix held his breath, but Jenna laughed loudly.

"_Hey_, Egil!" Jenna grinned and poured up another cup of tea, offering it to her fuming ally. "It's Dragon Well! Want to try some?"

The mercenary stared at the siblings, slowly raising a hand to point at Felix and then at Jenna. Felix awkwardly lowered his face behind the teacup and twisted his bare legs together in discomfort. Egil slowly stepped up to Jenna and took the tea, downing the drink in one gulp. He then slammed the cup on the table and then ripped the hat from Jenna's head, spilling her hair over her shoulders.

"These are Vincent's clothes!" said Egil, waving the hat in front of Jenna. "Where is Vince?"

Jenna laughed and shrugged, treating Egil as an old friend of hers.

"Oh, he quit." Jenna chuckled. "He gave me his gear. Told me to pass it on to you that he always hated this look."

"I bet you stuffed him in a cupboard," muttered Felix.

Jenna's eyes flashed and she punched Felix on the shoulder, making him spill hot tea on his lap with a loud yelp. He bounced to his feet and his bare thighs quickly became flushed from the burn. Realising that he was exposing himself, he quickly seated again and pulled his undershirt low to cover as much skin as possible. His face burned and he saw Jenna grin triumphantly.

"_Here's_ his resignation letter," said Jenna, placing a labelled envelope on the table. She didn't look to Egil, but instead directed her glare at Felix and pinched the brother on the arm. Egil shook his head in distaste. He collected the letter and Jenna's crossbow and then stomped out of the room without another word.

"Oh, come on!" said Jenna, whining like a child. "You're mad because I tried to shoot her?" She was about to run after Egil when yet another stranger stepped into the room.

The young man carried a large bowl and a stack of fabric in his arms and seemed surprised that Jenna was in the room.

"_Jerry!_" said Jenna cheerfully.

"Ugh, my name is _Jeremiah_," said the man. "It's not _that_ hard to pronounce. Please, either call me Jeremy like everyone else or use my proper name."

Jenna took the stack of clothes from Jeremiah and stepped over to the table, pushing the teapot aside before placing the clothing down. She picked up one of the shirts and shook it loose.

"What's _this_?" said Jenna. "Is this for women? Why is it so frilly and paper thin? I told you my brother freezes easily! And what's _this_? It's sleeveless!"

"That goes _on top_ of your shirts," said Jeremiah. "And don't question me about this land's sense of fashion; I'm not even from here—I got these from Ming's wardrobe."

"Whatever!" said Jenna. "It's better than the rags." She gestured into the room and Jeremiah carried the brass bowl in. Felix hesitantly looked at his sister's new friend, studying him.

Jeremiah had light-brown eyes, and honey-coloured hair that barely reached his ears. Unlike Egil and Jenna, who seemed to try being as flashy as possible, Jeremiah dressed in brown and reds. Dutifully, he placed the clothing on the table and then soaked a rag in the brass container, wrenching the excess liquid out before turning towards Felix.

"Uh…" Felix awkwardly rubbed his opposite arm with his left hand. "I… can do that myself."

Jeremiah shrugged, placing the rag in Felix's hands before stepping aside. The Earth Adept stared at him and pointed towards the door with his nose.

"Oh!" said the mercenary. "My apologies!" He then quickly stepped over and closed the door before standing aside again.

Felix gestured with the rag incredulously.

"Could you two… _leave_?" he then asked. He wasn't completely undressed, but he certainly felt naked with his sister and her new best friend in the room.

Jeremiah shook his head with a wry smile.

"I'm under orders to take care of your needs, but I also need to make sure you don't hurt yourself trying to slip away." He nodded towards the casement meaningfully. "Your sister will kill me even if my master doesn't."

Before Felix could respond, Jenna yanked the rag out of his hands and began cleaning his face.

"Jenna—"

"Sit down!"

"I'm not five!" Felix shouted at his sister. "I can dress and clean myself!"

"You _can?_" asked Jenna with a dry laugh. She threw the rag in his face and then picked up a hand mirror from the table, shining it in Felix's face. "Then why would you allow yourself to look like _this?_"

Felix's reflection looked terrible. His face was covered with dirt and remains of make-up and his lips were chapped and broken. He looked just like a fugitive who'd recently escaped prison. But _whose_ fault was that? _He_ didn't chop off half of his fringe and smeared the makeup all over his face himself!

Grudgingly, Felix dabbed his face with the wet piece of cloth and removed the dirt. Feeling a sting on his cheek, he willed his Psynergy to heal the scratches on his face and the bruises on his limbs, before soaking the rag again and standing up. He shoved the piece of cloth under his shirt and began cleaning the rest of his body. The clear water quickly became clouded with his filth as he soaked the rag every now and then. Jenna shook her head with a disgusted expression, once again commenting on how he used to look respectable.

"You used to be strong and healthy…" she said, suddenly sounding nostalgic while gripping the frilly shirt in her hands. "And now look at you." She turned to face Felix. "You look like a starved beggar."

Felix lowered the rag into the brass bowl, deciding he was done cleaning himself. He cast a look towards Jeremiah, who was writing something into a small wax tablet, and then looked back to Jenna who held out the white frilly shirt to him. Awkwardly, he changed into the new clothes in front of his sister and the mercenary. He didn't understand why they had to stay here and watch.

The cotton clothing was soft against his skin but it smelled a bit weird. It was probably the bleach—this shirt was snow white and probably new. Jenna carefully fixed his frilly collar and cuffs before helping him into the padded orange doublet. It was constructed differently from the other clothes he'd seen, having excessive amount of extra fabric on the front—even Jenna didn't seem to know how to button the thing up. Eventually, Jeremiah closed his tablet, placing it on the table and then helped Felix dress.

The mercenary carefully folded the front flaps over Felix's chest, aligning them so that the fur-trimmed collar crossed and hugged his neck comfortably before fastening the clothing with the strings hanging under his armpits. He then dutifully continued to help Felix into the rest of the clothes; the young man was surprisingly good at dressing people for being a sellsword.

Felix sat in his chair and rubbed the side of his arm when Jeremy was on his knees, winding strips of cloth around Felix's legs to keep the boots on—his feet were big enough, but his calves were too thin to fill the boots. Jenna laughed and poked the side of Felix head, saying right to his face that Jeremy was a servant and dressed Kraden every morning. As she said that, Felix glimpsed a sad smile briefly appearing on Jeremy's lips.

Felix eyed at the blue cloak that Jenna fastened around his shoulders with a golden brooch. He couldn't tell what material the cape was made of, but it had a beautiful sheen and subtle pattern. It was soft and warm to the touch, too—whatever material it was, it was be bound to be expensive. Felix had never worn fabric this fine ever in his eighteen year old life. He wondered what kind of people Jenna had made friends with to be able to afford these kinds of luxuries. If he didn't know Jenna was a Fire Adept with a temper to match, he'd be worried if some rich man hadn't tricked her—Felix's sister might not be a beauty of the ages, but she was pretty for a village girl.

Once he was fully dressed, Jenna beamed and approached him with a comb and a pair of scissors. Felix sighed and sat still as Jenna shorted his fringe properly. She didn't cut anything else and instead combed out the knots in his brown hair with their mother's comb. As Jeremy picked up his tablet Felix caught a glimpse of the emblem emblazoned on its back—it was an eagle with spread wings inside a laurel wreath.

"Tolbi…"

"Huh?" said the servant.

"That emblem on your tablet," said Felix. "You work for the Tolbian government?"

"_Hah!_" Jeremiah smiled and pointed at Felix with the stylus. "Jenna wasn't kidding. You _are_ quick and knowledgeable! Yup, I've served Tolbi since… well, ever since I could remember, I guess."

"What are you writing?" asked Felix.

"Just taking some notes of what I need to get you later. Do you want a proper bath tonight? Your hair looks quite bad."

"Uh… I don't know—"

"That means yes," Jenna filled in, taking the comb out of his greasy hair. "Don't worry about the money, Felix. We don't need to pay for anything."

"I'll arrange it, then," said Jeremy, closing his tablet and leaving the room.

"I don't need you help me bathe, by the way!" Felix quickly added, but he couldn't tell if the servant had heard him or not. He absently cast a glance down towards his state of dress. If wearing Rhen's clothing made him feel unlike himself, then wearing these garments felt worse. He might look "respectable", as Jenna put it, but he didn't look like himself_ at all_. Looking up, he saw Jenna standing with her arms crossed and grinning with an air of superiority.

"You like Jeremy, don't you? I see it on your face. Birds of a feather flock together, am I right?"

"_What?_" said Felix defiantly. Couldn't Jenna give him a break? "Well, _of course_ I like Jeremy. He's _nice. _People tend to like those who are nice to them. But I guess you've forgotten that concept, _right_?"

Jenna laughed—a snide cackle.

"You think he likes you? He grew up as a servant! His smile is artificial. He's treating you well because his Master Kraden ordered him to. I don't know if he even has a free will like—"

_BANG!_

"You disgust me," said Felix. "No one's a willing servant if they have a better alternative."

"Speaking from experience?" asked Jenna, raising her voice.

"_Yes!_" replied Felix, shouting back.

Jenna inhaled and slowly closed her mouth. Felix could almost see her panting with that angry face. He couldn't believe this. Was this even the same Jenna he'd missed every day he spent in the northlands? The Jenna he knew might be rude from time to time, but she was still a kind-hearted girl who loved helping people and looking after people weaker than her.

"Are you done toying with me?" said Felix. "Because I don't think you can humiliate me any further unless you sell me into slavery."

Jenna's left eye twitched, but she kept staring at Felix. Finally he picked up Felix's letter from the table and tapped his nose with it. Even now, Felix couldn't tell if Jenna had read the letter or not. If she had, she wouldn't treat him like this. If she'd read the letter, she wouldn't treat him like dirt.

"You think you're so great, don't you Felix?" hissed Jenna. "You're so great being able to write in mirrored script. You're so great being able to write a letter _in verse_ for your sister who can barely read!"

Felix averted his eyes and Jenna tossed the letter in his face, the corner of the paper scraping his cheek as it hit.

"So you're still mad I deserted you?" said Felix ruefully. Pettiness was a trait he certainly recognized in his sister.

"_Like hell I am!_" Jenna roared, grabbing Felix's collar and throwing him to the floor. "What were you _thinking?" _She picked up a mock-up squeaky voice. _"Oh, I can do it all myself! I'll keep it all a secret and pretend to be a villain! It's for the best! I know what's best! I'll just drop my sister off here and expect her to go back to Vale and not care what happens to me!"_ She began to kick him repeatedly as he lay on the floor.

"Woa—_hey!_" A voice suddenly called from the door and Alex suddenly stormed in. The friend grabbed Jenna and pulled her away from Felix. "Stop, _stop! Jenna! Stop!_" He tried to tell Jenna off, but the sister kept screaming.

"_You coward!"_ she shrieked. "You think I'll be _happy_ once you've saved the world? You think I'll _worship_ you once you've succeeded saving our parents?_ You bastard!_ You think I'll be happy after finding out that I've _wronged my brother and left the rest of my family for dead?_"

Felix turned around and propped himself up on his elbows. Alex held the sister back, telling her to calm down, but Jenna kept screaming:

"_Who do you think you are? _Saint Prox or Imil?" Her voice cracked and Felix realized his sister was crying. "You're just a _human_, Felix! You can _die. _I can lose you again,_ hf… I can lose my entire family again, you jerk!"_

Finally, she broke down completely and stopped struggling, sinking down to her knees as Alex gently closed his arms around her in an attempt of comforting her. Felix felt a pang in his chest and he stared at his wrecked sister.

"Jenna…" he whispered.

"_Hhhhhhhf_…" Jenna sobbed, clinging onto Alex, who suddenly started having trouble picking a side. "If I'd chosen differently back in Vault… I could've been running you through with a sword or spear now! If I'd returned to Vale, I could have ended up killing my entire family…"

Alex looked back towards Felix and beckoned to him with his look, pointing down at Jenna with his nose briefly. Felix worriedly crawled over to his sister but Jenna shoved him away as he once again invoked her rage.

"What are you?" said Jenna, sniffling. She pushed Alex's arms away too and furiously wiped her tears. "What kind of person are you to think this is a good idea? To keep me in the dark? Isaac and Garet still don't know! You jerk… They're doing everything they can to stop you because you're too much of a coward to tell us the truth! Or did you do it because you think you're really that great? That you can survive lighting all four lighthouses without getting killed by bounty hunters or the templars?"

Felix looked away. Tears quickly clouded his sight and clogged up his nose.

"You're crying?" asked Jenna sardonically. She turned to sit on her haunches and then kicked him weakly, merely nudging him with the foot. "Why are _you_ crying? Did I hurt your feelings? Or did you just realize what a cruel joke your stupid plan to martyrdom is?"

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

I think it's time to talk about the original characters since I've introduced a crapton of them in this chapter.

Most readers do not care about original characters and I understand that, but most OCs in this story are pretty much just named NPCs and they usually don't stick around for an extended period of time. The characters that stick with Karst are exceptions, since she needs people to interact with.


	18. – Kraden's Proposition

**A**ges ago, or so legends tell, the arcane energies of Alchemy powered the world. Great civilizations ushered together in a glorious era of flourishing magic and technology.

The City of Loho was the home of the Ancients, favoured and blessed by the gods. It was a place of knowledge, of peace, and of research.

And it was here Midas—the Great Alchemist, created the Stone of Sages. A fabled artefact, it had absorbed the very essences of the world's founding elements. It had the power to override any magic no matter how powerful, and it had the ability to change even the most flawed metals into the purest gold. With the stone, the Grand Architect Satyrus, cover the city with great works of art and gave the Golden City its legendary name.

Although the stone had the ability to grant endless riches, its true power lay in cheating the gods of time and death, granting eternal youth to the wielder and even possessing the ability to raise the dead.

It was said that the creation of such an artefact was an offense so great that the gods abandoned the world and never answered any prayers again. The creation of such an artefact was a show of arrogance so great that the other races turned away from the Ancients and refused to renew the alliances as long the stone existed. The stone became so coveted by mortals that it became a reason for war.

The last High King of the Ancients was a mad and twisted individual. His name had been erased throughout history, but the few records that exist refer to him as the Sorcerer King. His madness was attributed to the gods exile from Weyard—not only was he High King, but also High Priest. Some say his only mistake was to offend the gods in drunken stupor. Others say he was simply cruel and a scourge of the world.

But all sources agree that he feared humanity's growing strength and power, and he planned to put the entire world under his feet when he still had time. Once he declared war on the world, he brought an army of warmages down on the people who dared questioning his divine right.

His oppression was denounced by all. His people rioted. His vassals rose in collective rebel. Ministers defied him, and he had them all imprisoned or executed. His most loyal friend and advisor, Prox, he threw him into the darkest dungeon to rot. Even his own royal court plotted against him and allied with the humans to bring an end to the Sorcerer King's reign. Soon, he stood alone with the Stone of Sages, commanding an army of undead wizards. At the height of his madness, he turned his family members and himself into dragons with forbidden arts—and the Golden City into a fortress of fire and brimstone.

A priest named Imil dared to lead the opposition into the inferno. With a spear blessed by the old gods, he pierced the Sorcerer King's heart and put an end to his tyranny. With his spear of light, he called down soothing rain and extinguished the flames of Loho.

The death of the high king resulted in a power vacuum, which inevitably led to another, bloodier war—a battle over the smouldering ruins of the Golden City and the lost artefacts within.

It was a war born from conflicting alliances and factions, and fuelled by newfound greed and aspirations of limitless riches, eternal life, and once again—world domination.

Thirty years of bloodshed followed and every nation became snared in the war, one way or another. The casualties were vast—cities and settlements were decimated and lands were rendered useless by the ravage of magic. It was the most devastating war in Weyard's history; never had so much blood been spilt. The war would have torn the world asunder if it weren't for the four brave souls who rose up, bringing together a band of heroes and constructing the Elemental Lighthouses to seal away Alchemy.

And that was that.

They saved Weyard from destruction. The four sages saved the world and brought an end to the era of magic. They vanished from the face of Weyard without a trace, leaving behind their followers to protect the beacons and the seals. They became remembered and worshipped as Saints, and they watched over the world in place of the gods.

The Stone of Sages that sparked the wars was never recovered. It was lost in the ruins and forgotten by time—it was probably even destroyed, as unlikely as it seemed.

War and conflicts however, did not disappear with the sealing of Alchemy. The races of Weyard still fought over territory and domination.

Only one thing was different.

Civilizations reliant on magic declined. They died out. My ancestors were no different. Driven out to the deserts, only those with the power of the elements could survive.

I was born a starving child of Suhalla and got by as best I could after being cast out from the orphanage. Most sorcerers were orphaned for having their abilities. I was disowned for _not_ possessing them.

I descend from the great people of Ankohl, the cruel priestess ruling the orphanage told me, but my blood was too thin to even count. I would die, alone and forgotten in the desert, and no one will ever miss me, she told me as I left the orphanage. But I was the last to laugh when she was dragged out of her hiding by soldiers and thrown to the lions when the city was sacked.

When I was a child, the town was a place of trade and commerce and the bridge of Lalivero and Tolbi. For the longest time, the city was governed by Laliverian theocrats. Things changed when the conflicts between Laliveran authorities and the King of Gondowan escalated, and a war arrived. Suhalla was overtaken by Tolbian rule. There was no fighting— no resistance. We welcomed our new overlords and rejoiced when the corrupt officials were paraded in shackles through the streets to meet their fates. They had exploited the poor for long enough, and we were finally being given the justice we deserved.

Justice in blood.

My cleverness and wit caught the eyes of the young general marching into the newly claimed town; a man with bright eyes and a handsome face. A man with a warm smile, warm hands, and a warm heart.

My liege…

_My king_.

* * *

Snow fell over Bilibin in the calm, moonless night. Felix sat awake and listened to Alex's flute singing "Imil's Lament" to Jenna in the room next door. He smiled bitterly.

Ever since the flight from the north, he thought keeping Jenna in the dark was the right thing to do. It was better than letting Jenna know of the atrocities their people had committed, he'd thought. It was better to let her believe he'd turned to evil than tearing down her entire world.

How could he have been so blind? All she wanted was for him to treat her as his equal. All she wanted was for him to listen to her as she'd always been listening to him. But he never did. He always saw her as the little girl who didn't know any better. Ever since she burned down the barn in Vale, he'd been protecting her.

He thought he was protecting her this time as well. But _was_ he?

Or was he simply doing this for himself?

* * *

The cold chilled him when someone opened the window and let the icy wind in. He shuddered and pulled the blankets over his ears, squinting as someone shook his shoulders and tried to rouse him.

"I'm awake… I'm awake," said Felix. He groaned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as they began adjusting to the cold morning light. "Close the window, will you?" he whined, whisking his hand, wrapping the blanket around himself. "It's cold."

Jeremy nodded and closed the casement. The servant went to retrieve Felix's clothes.

"Hey, no need!" said Felix. "I can do that myself." He averted his eyes towards the door. "Go… go wait outside until I'm done."

Jeremy chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, but he still obeyed Felix's command and left the room.

The Earth Adept stepped out of bed and tested his feet, scratching his back as something irritated his skin. He turned to the brass container on the nightstand, washed his face in the clear water, and then dried himself with the towel Jeremy had provided. It was awfully quiet and Felix couldn't help but look towards the window. Dragging his feet over there, he cracked the casement open to see that the town was still sleeping and the sun wasn't even up yet.

"Argh…" Felix moaned and rubbed his forehead with an open hand. He thought he'd be able to catch a few more hours of sleep now when he no longer had to follow Menardi's tight schedule, but apparently Jenna and her teacher weren't going to let him sleep in either.

Yawning, he stepped over to the chair where he'd thrown his clothes last night and dressed himself. Jeremy was back as soon he was finished and removed the brass bowl from the nightstand. The servant gestured to Felix to follow, leading him out of the room.

Marcus was sweeping the steps and one of his staff members was seemingly cleaning the window. Jeremy walked past him and headed downstairs to get rid of the dirty water. There was a stepladder leading up to the attic and warm light poured down from above.

Nearing the other end of the corridor, Felix realized the "cleaner" was no one other than Jenna, who was still wearing men's clothing. She stood at the window, engaged in a friendly conversation with someone outside.

"Heeh-hee." Jenna giggled. "You're quite the hopeless romantic, aren't you?"

"Heh-he, many say that about me," replied the soft-spoken man hanging from the windowsill. He was wearing a different hat, but Felix still recognized the dark-haired Adept who duelled Menardi yesterday. "But then, that's why she likes me."

"She must be a very sweet girl," said Jenna. Felix could see that his sister was folding silk handkerchief adorned with butterflies in her hand. "She's very lucky to have someone like you."

"Aw, don't say it like that. You're making me blush!"

"Hah-ha!"

"Hello, Felix," said the mercenary. He wasn't only dark-haired but dark-eyed too. In fact, he probably was south Angaran; Xianese seemed close enough. "Do the clothes fit? I was afraid they'd be too small."

Felix averted his eyes. He wasn't exactly tall by north Angaran standards.

"Please, do not misunderstand," said the mercenary. "I'm not trying to seduce your sister."

"I…" began Felix, cringing. "I don't even know how to respond to that." He sighed, shaking his head.

"_Aw_… Ming," said Jenna in mock-disappointment. "I thought you said I was pretty."

"Fate doesn't will us together. You will find the one meant for you eventually, little sister." Ming smiled and Jenna swatted him on the head with the handkerchief. The mercenary then pressed a folded paper bird into Jenna's hand.

"Tell Egil from me, will you?" he said.

"Sure," replied Jenna, nodding with a smile.

"Good-bye."

"See you."

Ming gave the windowsill a push and then launched himself upwards with his Psynergy, his cloak billowing like a banner as he vanished up to the roof. His light steps were barely audible on the tiles, and here Jenna insisted he wasn't an Adept. Not only was Ming an Adept—he was a rare kind too. Besides this acrobat, Rhen was the only Wind Adept Felix had ever met, despite having spent his whole life among sorcerers.

"Where's he going?" asked Felix, partially out of curiosity and partially as an attempt to try striking a conversation with his sister.

"He went to find his fortune," replied Jenna with a shrug, lifting the paper bird in her hands. It seemed to have been folded with a written letter.

"Is the company bad?" asked Felix.

"Probably not," said Jenna, smiling, "but Ilya's Arrows have sworn fealty to McCoy so the opportunities don't look great."

"Oh."

Felix leaned against the wall and rubbed his opposite arm with his right hand as the conversation ended. He tried to find another subject and looking back, he realized that Jenna was equally uncomfortable due to the fight yesterday.

"So… who's this Kraden?" Felix finally asked. "And why does he want to help Menardi?"

Jenna shrugged with a faint smile.

"He taught me poetry a few years ago. For two years I thought he was a pilgrim from Kalay, but not until recently did I find out he's a powerful man from Gondowan." She sighed. "Honestly, I'm not even sure myself why he wants to help you… but…" She lifted her gaze, "But if it means saving our family, and maybe the world, then I don't care what his reasons are."

Felix looked back at his sister for a moment but almost immediately dropped his gaze.

"Sorry," Jenna then whispered, putting a warm hand on his arm. "I went too far yesterday. I don't hate you. I could never hate you, Felix. You're my brother."

"No, you're right," replied Felix. "I _am_ a coward. Everyone had high hopes for me and lifted me to the high heavens, but I never dared to fly. I was afraid to fall. I was afraid that no one would catch me if I fell." Letting out a sigh of relief, he continued: "I don't think I'm a great hero of any sort. But I'm your big brother. I'm the eldest child and the only son of the family. Protecting you is my duty. Besides, I didn't know how to tell you about the atrocities that the Valian temple has committed for 'greater good'."

Jenna chuckled and stepped aside to lean against the wall too, standing next to him. A content smile was drawn on her lips as she drew a deep breath and stared into the distance in wistful silence. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it and remained silent.

Felix gazed out of the window too. The first rays of sunlight gilded the rooftops of the city and cast the McCoys' castle on top of the hill in silhouette. A smile dawned on Felix lips and as his chest rose and fell easily without the dark secrets weighing him down. He was still not free, but knowing that Jenna didn't hate him was enough.

"We should head upstairs," said Jenna finally. "The others are waiting."

Felix nodded, following his sister to her teacher's secret library. He poked his head through the floor and Jenna took his hand and helped him up. Alex and Menardi were there too, sitting at a wide table and reading from a different scroll each. The old man who called himself Jenna's teacher also sat at the table, writing something down on a sheet of paper. His blue eyes kept travelling back and forth between the letter and the open wax tablet next to his inkhorn. Jeremy's brother Solomon stood quietly behind Kraden's chair, watching, also being a dutiful servant.

"Ah, Felix…" said the old man finally, smiling as he finished his document and put it aside. He gestured to his tablet and Solomon picked it up and began erasing the notes. "So you're finally here. We were just talking about you. Come. Have a seat."

Jenna accompanied him to the gathering, and even seated at his side and grabbed some snacks from the table for him. Felix accepted the sweet roll, but his gaze wandered over the excessive amount of scrolls, maps and plans. He recognized a few of them being construction plans for what seemed to be the Elemental Lighthouses. Then there were texts written in Ancient runes with translations written below. Looking up, he found Kraden wiping dirt from his eye-glasses, holding them up against the light-source and squinting.

He cast a brief look at Kraden's letter, which was addressed to McCoy himself.

"Thelos?" asked Felix.

Kraden looked at his letter too and chuckled, placing his glasses back on his pointed nose.

"Oh, that's the name I go by here in Bilibin," replied the scholar. "You don't go by your given name either, I suppose?"

Felix shook his head. Of course not—he was a wanted man in these lands.

He had met the old man once before in Vale prior to the raid. Menardi heard the Valians talking about him constantly pestering the priests about wanting permission to visit Sol Sanctum, so she wanted to meet him and exchange some ideas. Kraden dressed differently back then; he wore only dirt brown and his beard was a messy old broom. He was just as calm and collected as he was now despite that two heavily armed strangers had showed up at his doorstep. He'd welcomed Menardi and Felix in to his dusty home and offered some hardened scones. The conversation was apparently friendly but it was a sparring with arguments in disguise. Even though they shared certain opinions of the temple's zeal and a common goal of unveiling the secrets of Alchemy, it was very clear that an agreement could not be reached about breaking into Sol Sanctum. When they left the old cottage that day, Menardi's face was dark.

"It was a mistake coming here," she'd concluded, but she had refused to elaborate when Felix tried digging deeper.

Felix cast another look at the papers on the table. Everything here had something to do with the Lighthouses, with Sol Sanctum, or with Alchemy itself. He turned his head, casting a wide look at all the books and scrolls on the shelves. Kraden had about this many books back at his residence in Vale too. Considering that he had servants and guards, it wouldn't be that much of a surprise if he'd somehow retrieved his old stuff and relocated it here. Felix knew from the first meeting in Vale that Kraden had deep knowledge about the old legends and was interested in magic—that was his primary reason for staying in Vale to begin with—but now he wondered if this old man knew more about the Source of Magic than he was letting on.

Felix barely recognized Kraden as the old pilgrim from Vale. His beard was trimmed short and his grey curls were combed back behind his ears, framing a grandfatherly face. His clothing was made of probably the most expensive fabric of white, red and black. It was layered and cut and the cuffs of his sleeves were lined with embroidery. His beret was made of black velvet and decorated with feathers, pins and gold threads. If Kraden told Felix he was in fact McCoy's chancellor, Felix would have believed him.

"What's wrong, Felix? Something on my face?" asked the old scholar.

"Oh…" Felix stammered as he met Kraden's clear blue eyes. "I-I'm just… a bit confused."

"Do not worry, child," said Kraden with a comforting smile. "It will all be clear before we leave this place." He then looked to Menardi and Alex who still rolled their scrolls and read.

"Questions?" asked Kraden suddenly, clearing his throat.

Alex looked up from reading, but said nothing. The gaze from his cerulean eyes seemed strangely cold in the flickering lamp light. His pupils wandered to Menardi and then back to Felix. Meeting the Earth Adept's gaze, he smiled and gave him a little nod, but he still kept his scroll up and it was hard for Felix to see the lower half of his face.

"You still haven't told us why you want to help us," said Menardi coldly, lowering her scroll to the table.

Kraden leant back in his armchair and lifted the glasses from his nose, wiping them again with his handkerchief.

"The Tolbian government wants the Venus Lighthouse. So do you. This is an alliance that we both will benefit from."

"That simple?" said Menardi lowly.

"That simple," repeated Kraden, placing the clear glasses back on his nose. He lifted his hand and gently grasped his drinking cup. Solomon carefully poured up wine for his master without a word.

"Care to explain the extensive knowledge you have here about Sol Sanctum and the Lighthouses?"

"Many years ago, I was given the task of restoring Venus Lighthouse, but despite my knowledge I've only opened the gates. Like you, we've discovered that only an Adept of the corresponding Element can reach the aerie, and only a descendant of the original guardians can open the gates. That is why you would agree to duel for Felix's life, isn't that right?"

"If you could open the gates, then why do you need us?"

"As we know, the Valian temple will not bend to any reason. An attempt of recruiting anyone would end in utter failure. Felix is my only known candidate as well as yours."

"The Adept who opened the gates for you," said Alex. "What about him?"

"The boy had the blood," replied Kraden, taking a sip from his cup, "but he's hardly an Adept. He did not have the power to ascend the tower. Moreover, the riddle of the Lighthouse has yet to be solved."

"Riddle?" asked Felix. "There was no riddle in the Mercury Lighthouse. Right, Alex?"

The Water Adept blinked his eyes, but he didn't answer.

"He solved Imil's riddle," said Menardi. "That is how he could open the pathway to the aerie."

Even now, Alex refused to comment.

"Unfortunately, the riddle of Lalivero has been removed from the tower," said Kraden with a light cough. "The inscriptions had been scratched off… as if someone wanted to prevent anyone from ever accessing the aerie."

"Then what's your plan?" asked Menardi.

Kraden smiled, drinking from his cup again.

"I have managed to recover all the riddles from… external sources. Unfortunately, they are written in Ankohlian script. A friend of mine is able to translate. He currently resides in Xian, but none of my messengers managed to survive the journey and Egil refuses to send anyone more through the cursed forest."

"You want us to be the messengers?" asked Alex finally.

"You wouldn't even be able to get out of the city without me." Kraden smiled, narrowing his eyes. "No, I want you to escort me to Xian."

The scholar then put his cup down on the table and looked directly at Menardi.

"And I know what you're thinking," said Kraden. "Why would you need me if you could just steal that scroll right now? Well, the Tolbian King rules all of North Gondowan. Mutinies in Lalivero have forced instatement of martial law. You won't even be able to see the tower without my help. Besides, are you sure you can even get out of Angara alive with both the Templars of Vale and the Imilan Watch hunting your heads?"

Menardi smiled mildly, staring back at Kraden meaningfully.

"I don't work with greedy sellswords," she said.

Kraden turned towards Solomon.

"Dismiss Egil and pay him."

Solomon nodded and left the room.

"My attendants aren't going anywhere," Kraden added with a smile. "They are hardly any match for any of you Adepts anyway."

Menardi let out a breathy, half-hearted laugh and averted her eyes, but she said nothing more.

Felix nervously gazed at the scrolls as the silence took hold.

"Is it decided?" asked Kraden after a while.

"When do we leave?" said Menardi.

"Now is good," replied Kraden, rising from his chair.

Jenna began picking up the scrolls and Felix started helping but Kraden told them to leave them.

"Go downstairs and eat," he told the young Adepts. "I'll have Jeremy do the packing."

"Well," said Menardi, sighing, "tell me how you plan to get three outlaws out of town when it's on lockdown. First there were those child abductors and now we have a mob of crazed arsonists wanting to torch Kolima."

"I have a permit from McCoy himself," replied Kraden with a slight chuckle. "No one will question my entourage."

"What about Kolima?" asked Alex glumly, folding his arms over his chest.

"Pardon?" said Kraden.

"The Curse of Kolima," said Jenna. "Haven't you heard the news? Everyone passing through that area might get turned into a tree."

"Don't you worry," replied Kraden with a mild smile. "I've paid someone to ferry us across the river." He extended his hands and gestured towards the rest of the people. "And with this many Adepts, what can go wrong?"

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

Jenna finds out the truth of Felix's intentions much earlier than in the game, because I don't see how he possibly can keep that secret for that long. I also can't see how Jenna would be willing to stick around for that long unless Felix started being honest.

Having Jenna causing trouble and brawling with everyone might have been funny the first two times, but it has to come to an end at some point.  
In game, it makes no sense for Felix's party to walk around go through Xian, Altin and Lamakan. Here I've at least made up a reason/excuse.


	19. – Seeds of Discord

**T**hey were still stuck in Bilibin.

The amount of paperwork required for getting a permit to freely travel the land was ridiculous. Three days had passed since Garet made an application and he was _a templar!_—How long did it take for the common folk and merchants? Garet understood that it was dangerous beyond the wall and that a lot of trouble had come to the city, but people needed to do their businesses and _live_.

Being a templar meant something, so the guards would let him through the gate, but he wasn't going to leave without Isaac and Ivan. He stopped by the barracks to ask about his application often enough for some of the guards to know his name. André, who was particularly well-versed in the Bilibian law, would talk to him and ask about how things worked in Vale. He was getting fed up with the corruption higher up and wanted out; people were still upset that their children were missing but the royal court couldn't worry about anything else than the damn shipment of wood for Lady McCoy's palace.

Garet took a stroll with André when he was off duty at noon. They were on their way to a tavern in the eastern part of town when they heard people talk about nasty sounds coming from a spooky well. According to the neighbouring citizens it had emitted faint cries during the last few days which was the reason they sealed it up with wood planks.

André decided to dig deeper and borrowed a logging axe. A putrid smell wafted through the air when the well was opened and Garet almost threw up. Eventually, he found himself lowering André to the well with a rope as a small crowd gathered to see what was going on. André was gone for several minutes, but eventually he tugged at the rope and asked Garet to haul him back up. He was heavier than before. Garet expected a dead body, but André had rescued a dirty, malnourished child.

Andre was bleeding profusely from his arm. There was a tunnel under the well and he'd tried using his sword to jam one of the traps there, but he got sliced by his own weapon upon failure.

Afterwards, a search for the remainders of the imprisoned children was launched to the underground caverns below the city. Strangely enough, they had to go through the royal treasury, and the entrance was behind the plaque of Lady McCoy's statue in the plaza. According to André, the treasury was an abandoned project and another waste of resources.

The rescued children were malnourished and sickly; most of them had to be taken to the temple immediately. Some of them hadn't seen daylight for weeks and were so traumatised that they couldn't even speak coherent sentences. Garet didn't want to know what torture they had been subjected to and simply hoped for them to be reunited with their families soon.

The Bilibian watch thought they had captured the ones responsible for the kidnappings, but three of the criminals had managed to slip through their fingers. Garet recognized their faces when they were dragged out to the plaza. They were the nasty people who tried claiming to be Ivan's parents—if he and Isaac hadn't interfered that day, Ivan might have ended up in a dirty cage in the caverns too.

André was told to seek proper treatment for his wound, since the tendons in his arms had been cut badly. Garet offered to help him to a healer. He knew there were a lot of people in the temple and the priests had their hands full, but he figured he could ask Isaac to lend a hand.

Isaac was sitting at the steps outside when Garet arrived—the Earth Adept often complained about the bad air indoors.

"Hey, Isaac!" Garet called out to his friend. "Could you heal André's arm here?"

The Earth Adept looked up, questioning. But then Isaac saw the watchman and his expression changed from surprise to contempt.

"_You_," said André with a sigh.

"What do you want?" snarled Isaac, standing up and failing to notice that André was _injured_. "I haven't done anything."

"_Yet_," said André.

"Wait…" said Garet, questioning the sudden animosity. "Do you know each other?"

"We've _met_," André replied bitterly, staring Isaac down. "So, where's your _brother_, miscreant?"

"_Miscreant?_" Garet turned his head back and forth between the watchman and the Adept. "What—"

"He's sleeping, _meddler_," said Isaac, ignoring Garet completely. "You can go inside and see for yourself."

André nodded meaningfully and gestured to Isaac to lead the way.

Garet grabbed Isaac's shoulder, giving him a questioning look, but the Earth Adept indignantly shook his hand away and walked back inside with steady steps. Ivan lay wrapped up in Isaac's old red cloak and blankets, seemingly asleep. Isaac seated next to the Wind Adept's head and gently placed a hand on Ivan's side, his hateful look never leaving André.

The watchman stepped in front of Ivan, squinting and tilting his head aside. When he reached out to tap Ivan's shoulder, Isaac angrily swatted his hand away.

"Don't touch him," he said.

Ivan stirred and groggily opened his violet eyes. When he saw André standing in front of him, he gasped and began blindly fumbling around on the bench with a terrified look.

"Isaac. Isaac... _Isaac!_"

"I'm here, I'm here! Calm, Ivan, it's all right; I'm here."

If Isaac hadn't put his arms around Ivan, the boy would've rolled off the bench and fallen to the floor.

"Isaac, _hf_, Isaac, I thought you were gone, Isaac. _Hf._ Isaac—" Ivan repeatedly gasped Isaac's name, sinking his fingers into the Earth Adept's hands and burying his face in the fold of his arm. His fear only amplified his protector's anger and Isaac glared back at André, telling the watchman to get out of his face.

Garet quietly guided André away from the Adepts and towards a young priest changing votive candles at the altar, asking for a healer. The novice went to an older priest speaking to the refugees, bringing him over to André.

As the priest opened the bandages and tended to the watchman's injury with a spell, Garet asked about his encounter with Isaac. The Adepts had only been stuck here for a few days. Exactly what did Isaac do to cause such a strain between him and André?

"A misunderstanding," said the watchman, waving his hand dismissively.

Garet sighed in relief, placing a hand on his forehead. He cast a look towards the back of the chapel where the Earth Adept sat and cuddled Ivan on his lap, shamelessly burying his nose in Ivan's tousled hair and combing out the blond strands with his fingers.

"Isaac's not a bad person," said Garet, averting his eyes. "He had a rough childhood."

"If you say so," replied the guard with a snort. He then thanked the priest for fixing his arm and turned back to Garet, dourly apologizing for startling Ivan. André then asked if there was anything he could do to make it up for them.

Garet shook his head, saying there was no need to get worked up over such trifles.

"You helped me a great deal today," said André, rolling his dirty sleeve back down. "If there's anything I can do to help, just say it."

"Uh…" Garet thought for a while. It would be rude to keep rejecting André's offer so he thought about asking for a meal to get this over with. Then, he suddenly remembered something he still hadn't taken care of since leaving the north.

"Well, there _is_ something," said Garet. "I'm not sure if it might be too much, though."

"Let's hear it."

Garet gestured to André to wait on the bench and then hurried aside to his own corner in the chapel, excusing himself as he carefully treaded through the sleeping refugees in the way. He retrieved the sword he'd taken from Felix's companion and went back to hand it over to the watchman, along with the letter to Vale.

"I need these delivered to the Valian temple as quickly as possible," he told André. "Many innocent people will die if the message doesn't arrive in time."

"Sounds pretty serious," said André. He looked at the sword and closed a hand around the grip, but Garet quickly grabbed his wrist.

"_Stop_," he said, remembering the enchantment on the blade. His eyes flicked aside for a second. "It's _cursed_."

André quickly removed his hand from the hilt and nodded, his expression scrunching up as if he was holding something unclean.

"I guess I could ask Egil to deliver this. He knows how to deal with magic and witchcraft. He could use some work after the heathens defeated his company."

"Heathens?"

"Bilibian politics—nothing you need to worry about," said André, standing up with a smile. "Come, let's go find Egil and have a drink."

Garet sighed. Drinks; always drinks.

"All right, then," he said. "Let me tell Isaac—"

He cut himself off when he saw Isaac and Ivan at the temple's entrance. Hastily, he sprinted over to the younger Adepts, telling them to wait. The Earth Adept froze, wrenching his hands in annoyance when Garet finally arrived in front of him.

"What?" asked Isaac monotonously.

"Where're you going?"

"To _eat_," drawled Isaac, rolling his eyes. "It's past midday. We're hungry."

Garet looked at Isaac's displeased expression. Who stepped on his tail?

"Eating!" said Garet with an awkward smile. "Good idea! André knows a place! He's buying and—"

"I'm not eating with that _barbarian_," said Isaac, turning away. "Ivan, come."

"_Isaac!_" Garet grabbed the Earth Adept's shoulder. "It's a misunderstanding! We can talk this over! Stop being a child—"

"Right, I'm a _child_," said Isaac haughtily, letting out a dry laugh. He then turned back to the Fire Adept, cornflower eyes narrowing. "I'm not a mighty templar like you. That's why you didn't bring me when you took care of those crooks this morning, right?"

The accusation caught Garet completely off guard. He came back from raiding McCoy's abandoned vault not long ago—the news couldn't have spread this fast. His eyes grew tall when he suddenly remembered Isaac cuddling Ivan earlier.

"Wh-what are you talking about," said Garet with a slight chuckle. "You…" He spoke with difficulty, as his gaze repeatedly wandered back to Ivan to make sure the Wind Adept _wasn't_ reading minds again. "You two were sleeping… like _logs_. I stumbled across their hideout when I took an early morning stroll… It was… Isaac, look, I didn't mean to—"

Isaac rolled his eyes. He turned around, dragged Ivan with him out of the temple, and slammed the door.

"_Hey,_" said André from behind, tapping Garet on the shoulder. "What was _that_ about?"

Garet sighed in defeat, shaking his head and raising his hands, palms facing up. Why did everything have to be so personal to Isaac? Couldn't he look past himself for just _once?_

He told one of the novices in the temple where he was going in case Isaac came back and wondered where he'd ran off to. André had found an old sack to put the sword in, which wasn't really necessary, but Garet could understand that he didn't want to touch a "cursed" item.

As they crossed the street and made their way to the town plaza, the snow glimmered on the roads. People wandered the streets with long capes and coats. It could only get colder from here.

"Are those two really brothers?" asked André suddenly. "Your friends, I mean."

Garet wasn't sure what Isaac had told André in that "misunderstanding", but he didn't see how the truth could harm him in any way. Still, he decided to be cautious:

"Uh… sure? I _guess?_ I wouldn't be surprised if Isaac told you they were brothers."

"I don't want to accuse your friend for a felony without evidence, but that child—the little one; he bears striking similarities with another person we've been looking for for months."

"Ivan isn't Bilibian, you know…" said Garet.

"Is he Kalayan?"

He winced and stared at the watchman. Ivan didn't look very Kalayan; the boy looked more Xianese with those slanted eyes. André nodded meaningfully and then withdrew a bundle of posters from under his gambeson, randomly giving one of them to the Fire Adept.

It was a drawn portrait of a light-haired child. His fringe was parted in the middle and the rest of his thick hair framed a round face. He had a small nose, big slanted eyes, and thin lips and eyebrows that completed a determined smile. Garet shrugged. Sure, Ivan could easily pass for this conceited-looking child, but most children looked alike. Would it really be that surprising to find two eleven year olds with a similar face? But then, he read "charming violet eyes" in the description below the picture. Violet eyes. Garet hadn't met anyone other than Ivan with that eye-colour before. He grew increasingly uncomfortable in his own skin when he read that this missing "child" was turning _sixteen_ next May. So, his name was Kadri. He was the Prince of Kalay's personal attendant and the Bilibian crown was offering a fortune for him if returned safely.

"Ivan is just a street-child who latched onto us in Vault," said Garet, slowly lifting his gaze to look back at André.

The watchman nodded thoughtfully, saying he'd spoken to the child too, but he simply wanted confirmation from a third party for ease of mind. Garet cast another look at the portrait and lowered his eyebrows for a moment. He then folded it up, asking André if he could keep the drawing.

"Don't think about passing your friend off as the real thing," said André, chuckling. "Kadri has a birthmark on his leg and a lot of scars on his chest."

"I just want to help," said Garet. "I'm a monk—riches don't interest me. I do wonder why the crown is offering so much money for a Kalayan valet."

"He was carrying an invaluable treasure when he came in asking for our protection. The queen of Kalay is very upset that he was abducted."

Garet lowered his gaze to Kadri's likeness. It looked more and more like Ivan—not Isaac's precious little brother though, but the conceited little noble from Vault.

"When did he arrive—?" began Garet, but André cut him off:

"Here it is—The Funny Ogre Inn! Egil's uncle owns the place so he practically lives here."

André grinned and opened the door, heading inside the warm building. Garet folded the drawing and put it in his pocket. He brushed off some snow from his shoulders before entering. The environment was very lively. There were patrons sitting at every table and everyone seemed to be having a good time. The innkeeper and the barmaid were busy tending to the guests and a minstrel was playing his lute and singing in a merry tune.

André cautiously approached the innkeeper, who smiled and then pointed to a table in the corner. The man sitting there seemed to share Isaac's sense for fashion. He wore a shiny cuirass and very bright colours of slashed fabric, and his hat was covered with big feathers that almost made him look like a peacock.

"Well, isn't it André?" said the man dourly, sipping from his flagon-there were two more empty ones on his table.

"Hey, Egil! How's life? Let me introduce you to my new friend, the templar Gerald Hans—"

"Just call me Garet," said the Fire Adept, extending a hand towards Egil.

"Uh-huh," said Egil, not paying attention.

"Egil's the current leader of the mercenary company Ilya's Arrows," said André.

Egil lowered his flagon on the table and lazily shook Garet's hand, saying that it wasn't much of a company anymore since everyone was leaving.

"All thanks to that bitch and her vanity and whims…" he then muttered. Egil growled, banging his flagon on the table and spilling his ale. He blinked hard and then started telling André how his brothers and sisters have been turned into trees.

Genuinely embarrassed, André picked up the empty flagons and asked Garet to refill them at the bar. Garet complied, taking the containers and leaving. As he strode over to the bar, the innkeeper wiped his hands, saying he hadn't seen Garet here before.

"Oh… I'm just visiting town," replied Garet. "André took me here to meet Egil for… business. The name's Garet, by the way. I'm a templar of Vale."

"Marcus," said the innkeeper, refilling the flagons. "Egil, huh? I hope it's not for something big. His entire company fell in Kolima last month."

"Oh. What happened?"

"Nobody knows. The queen sent Ilya and his men to deal with an uprising. I heard it was over the shipment of wood for her palace. Some say they were all turned into trees by some _fairy magic_ or nonsense, but it's quite clear those heathens in the east were more dangerous than expected."

"Heathens?"

Marcus blinked.

"Woah, you don't seem to know much about these lands, do you, lad?"

"Garet!"

Hearing André call his name, he picked up his drinks and excused himself. Standing up, he accidentally bumped into a stranger who passed behind him. Turning around and apologizing, he faced Isaac. His scarf, neck and breastplate were wet; his face was contorted in anger, and he seemed ready to clobber Garet with the half-empty flagon in his hand.

"Uh, Isaac?" said Garet in an admittedly dumb way. "So, what are you doing here?"

Isaac gave him an incredulous look and then soundlessly pointed sideways to his table where Ivan sat reading minds. The Earth Adept grudgingly wiped his breastplate and refilled his flagon. He went back to Ivan, who immediately stopped using Mindread and whispered something in Isaac's ear. As the younger Adepts began eating their food, Garet returned to Egil and André.

The two Bilibians rose from the table, saying they should go somewhere else to discuss business since it was too noisy here. Garet agreed and Egil led them upstairs to one of the rooms.

Egil went to the desk and retrieved some parchment from the drawers. He sharpened a quill, muttering about how Lady McCoy was messing with powers beyond her control. As the mercenary began drafting a contract and discussing the terms with André, Garet cast a look around the room.

There were family portraits on the walls. The furniture and decors suggested that this room wasn't normally available for rent. Suddenly, his gaze fixed upon a pink dress and a red vest on the bed. The clothes looked awfully familiar and he walked over to the bed to take a closer look. He froze when he stepped on something soft and looking down he found dirty brown and green clothes and a pair of old boots at his feet.

* * *

They left Bilibin and followed the road eastward, despite Egil's warnings about the disturbances in Kolima. There was an uprising in the forest village and Lady McCoy had sent soldiers and mercenaries to quell a rebellion. In exchange for a permit to get past the roadblocks, Garet promised André to check on the situation in Kolima; it wasn't much of an issue, since he needed to stop by the village on his way to Xian anyway.

Garet had tried sending Isaac and Ivan with Egil to Vale, but the friend had changed his mind about going home. He didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing, considering how troublesome it was to keep Isaac in check, but Garet admitted that he couldn't travel alone in times like these.

Isaac was surprisingly quiet after leaving Bilibin and he only talked when questions were asked. Garet appreciated the peace, but he couldn't help stop wondering if his friend was still mad over the thing with André. He'd asked Isaac about it, but the Earth Adept had simply dismissed the question, saying he didn't even remember the watchman's face.

The road was peaceful— no monsters or bandits crossed their paths. On one hand he was glad that he didn't have to deal with them, but on the other hand he couldn't help wondering what greater dangers lay ahead.

After following the road along the Kolima River for a full week, they eventually reached an area surrounded by spiked barricades made out of sharpened wood and logs. Garet could see McCoy's banner fly above the site but not a single soul stood guard at the post.

"_Hello-oooo!_" Isaac called out and carefully stepped behind the blockade, dragging Ivan after him. "Anyone here? We have permits and papers if you need to see them! _No?_ I guess we'll just pass through, then! No objections? We're passing through now!"

As no one answered Isaac's calls, save for the rapids, Garet stepped past the barricade and approached the rapids. The snow glittered in the sun and sheets of ice covered the logs that had gathered at the riverbank. Long, pike-like tools for redirecting the timber lay on the ground—partially covered with frost and snow. There were helmets and pieces of shredded armour lying scattered around in similar fashion too and some had been glued on the trunks of trees. If the wild magic of the forest didn't send everyone packing, then the monsters that shredded the guards did. Clasping his hands, Garet said a prayer for the dead before returning to Isaac and Ivan, who both seemed rather fascinated by the trees.

Isaac gently brushed the Wind Adept's shoulder and whispered something to the boy, but Ivan cautiously looked to Garet.

"I'll try something on this tree…" said the Wind Adept, pointing.

Garet shrugged, and the boy seemingly cast Mindread. Ivan's eyes grew tall in astonishment, but then narrowed in thought.

"This tree… it was a person," said the young Adept afterwards in a monotone voice. He then gasped and backed into Isaac's arms in wide-eyed horror, hugging Isaac's arm and whispering something Garet couldn't hear.

Isaac closed his arms around Ivan, placing his chin on the boy's head. The Earth Adept couldn't tear his gaze from the tree either, but his expression was that of determination rather than terror and he caressed Ivan's upper arms in attempt to calm the Wind Adept's fear.

Garet slowly walked around to Isaac's side, keeping his gaze on that one mysterious tree. Branches suddenly started looking like the arms of a human. High ridges and deep groves in the trunk formed the body of a man. It looked like a dryad, half-awakened from a disturbed slumber. Its arms were stretched high towards the heavens and split into branches at the wrists. Its face was a pained expression; hollow eyes and a mouth twisted in a frozen cry of agony.

A shiver crawled up his spine as he cast a wide look around; this wasn't the only "dryad" in the area. At least four more stood in the open area with spears and shredded armour at their roots. These must have been the guardsmen at the post—the curse of the forest was real.

Isaac suddenly stepped away from Ivan and cast Psynergy, looking sideways into the riverbank where the abandoned timber lay. He made pulling gestures and a smaller tree in the riverbank was drawn back into the snow. As Isaac turned it over with his Psynergy, Garet saw that it was another cursed human. The Earth Adept dragged the tree over to the bigger one next to Ivan and raised it up.

It was a child… a little girl. Ignorant of what had happened to her, she looked almost happy with a playful grin carved into her face. The Holy Tree of Kolima didn't discriminate.

He solemnly clasped his hands and said another prayer to the perished. Snow began to fall as if the heavens mourned too. Garet dragged his feet over to Isaac and squeezed the Earth Adept's shoulder. Isaac shook his head weakly and then gestured towards the eastern path. Nodding, Garet followed the younger Adepts back to the road as the snow fell thicker, sparkling in the sun.

Wait. Snow didn't sparkle like that. He stopped in his tracks and looked upwards when a phantom force suddenly tried crushing his skull.

"_Aaaargh!_"

He let out a scream, and he heard Isaac and Ivan cry as well. Garet clutched the sides of his head. His world began to spin he stumbled around on his feet.

What was going on?

Waves of nausea consumed his mind and he began drooling uncontrollably. His limbs were weak; he could no longer stand. He dropped to his hands and knees and then collapsed face first into the snow. The cold against his face lessened the pain slightly, and he forced his eyes open. The glittering dust still rained from the skies and he blinked hard. A malevolent sorcerer had ambushed him, but _why?_

Two spheres of light suddenly shone above his head—the first one red and the second blue. They circled upwards and materialized as small familiars, tracing tails of light in the air. A barrier of energy solidified around Garet, rising to encase him in a dome of light.

"How careless of you, Master," said the Djinn.

The headache began fading and he slowly started regaining his senses. Isaac's screech had subsided, but Ivan was still screaming. Garet propped up on his hands. He tried to locate his friends, but was blinded by the barrier. Then suddenly, the hard ground and cold snow vanished and his sense of feeling was taken away. The sound of crackling fire filled his ears. As he focused on listening, it became the pleasant song of a man singing in a foreign tongue.

His environment became a strange landscape of sunlit clouds and a dark silhouette snapped into focus. He discerned a tall, lean figure carrying a two-handed sword on his shoulders. A flowing cape cascaded down his back, his white hair gathered in twin braids hanging from either sides of his face, and a gleaming circlet rested on his brow. Garet couldn't see the man's face, nor could he understand his song. Still, he was certain that it was Saint Prox standing before him.

The sage gave him an approving nod and then vanished in a flash of light, his song echoing into the distance. The clouds parted to reveal a snowy forest grove.

Garet found himself staring at a massive tree in front of him. A strangely human face was carved into the middle of the trunk. Its eyes glowed; it had a unified brow, high cheeks and a large hooked nose.

"Why? Why doesn't he turn into a tree?" asked the wooden face, twitching, speaking with a raspy voice of a tired old man. Garet would've stumbled if he hadn't been suspended in midair. Was the tree addressing _him?_

He tried to speak; to reply, but he had no voice, his mouth flapping like that of a fish.

"_Hurrrr… _What kind of strange powers does he possess to thwart my spell?" said the old tree. "You! Have you come to save these ingrates who'd earned their fates?"

"Tret…" spoke a softer voice from aside, another giant tree with a face. Garet couldn't tell whether it was male or female from the voice or the face, but it possessed softer features, and leaf-green eyes. "Remember who you are," said the younger tree. "Remember the people of Kolima. You are their benevolent forest king! They pay tribute to you every spring, summer and autumn and protect you in winter!"

"_Hurrrr…_" The old tree sighed, closing its eyes and its eyebrows trembled.

"Tret, your kindness—"

"_No!_ Kindness… I need no kindness! Humans… they cannot be trusted! I shall die… and so shall the rest of these ingrates who took their axes on me!"

"Tret…" The younger tree looked down, directing its eyes towards a horseman on his steed standing next to Garet in the grove. "Child, you may not know this… but we're dying. And Kolima Forest will wither and die when we are gone."

The horseman, Garet couldn't see his face from the back of his helmet, but he recognized the crest on his teardrop-shaped shield and cape—blue on white, circles and wings—Saint Imil's crest.

"We won't die alone, Laurel!" said the old tree. Once we're gone, they, too, will go!"

"Tret was once a benevolent forest guardian," said Laurel, still speaking to the rider. "But his heart was torn in two as he's slowly withering away. His wrathful side has cursed the people of the forest. The kind Tret speaks no more."

"Yes…_ Yes!_" The old tree cackled with a maddened grin and it gaze flicked around in search. "They will all follow me to the next realm…"

A bright light shone in the skies and the world became a blurry vortex of colours. Even the voices became distant and faint.

"Child…" Laurel's voice faded into the distance and became fainter and fainter until it could no longer be heard. "If you wish to save those whom Tret has cursed, you must reawaken his kind self..."

His vision then suddenly snapped into focus and he found himself staring at a cloudy sky. Lowering his head and his gaze, Garet realized he was back at the Koliman River, staring ahead with the icy wind tearing at his cape. He stumbled and took a step back, testing his feet. The ground felt uncomfortable and foreign to him after a visit to the heavens. He blinked and turned around, hearing small whimpering sounds coming from behind him.

Isaac lay on the ground a few paces down the road. He was panting and shaking, lying on top of Ivan with his arms resting on either side of the Wind Adept's head. Ivan sobbed uncontrollably underneath, his arms wrapped tightly around the Earth Adept's shoulders.

"Isaac?" said Garet, squatting next to the friend and cautiously reaching a hand out towards him.

Isaac gasped and quickly sat back on his knees, still reeling from the other-worldly experience before. He clumsily unstraddled Ivan and pulled the boy up to a sitting position. Ivan coughed, rubbing his chest.

"Ivan?" said Isaac worriedly. He then looked down at his cuirass and realized how much discomfort he'd caused lying on top of him like that. "Did I hurt you?"

Ivan shook his head, swallowing hard as Isaac helped him up to his feet. He took a step, but then made a pained expression and tripped right back into Isaac's arms, saying that his foot hurt. Isaac lowered the young Adept to the ground. As he took off Ivan's right shoe and knitted sock, Garet glimpsed something that looked like the beginning of a birthmark on Ivan's ankle.

His eyes grew tall and his mind wandered. He had earlier accepted Ivan was shy and therefore refused to change or bath when someone else was looking, but now he wondered if the Wind Adept wasn't hiding more secrets under his clothes than just a silver dagger.

Isaac covered Ivan's foot up after healing his sprained ankle. He stood up, looking incredibly upset as he grasped Ivan's hand.

"We can't stay here," said Isaac with a quiver in his voice.

Garet lifted and lowered his gaze in thought.

"Right," he replied, nodding. "Let's leave before Tret gets mad again." They needed to get out of here first; everything else would have to wait.

"Who?" asked Isaac. His expression was stern and he closed his arms around Ivan like a fortress, but anyone who'd known the Earth Adept for a longer time could tell he was terrified and just putting on a brave face.

"You know, the Holy Tree of Kolima," replied Garet.

"It has a name?"

Isaac seemed shaken. Instead of asking more questions, he guided Ivan arms around his neck and then lifted the Wind Adept up.

"Let's get out of here," said Isaac, stepping past the barricades on the eastern side and leaving the post.

They travelled through the woods, staying alert the entire journey and they stayed away from the highway. Garet had hoped to reach the village of Kolima before nightfall. The Holy Tree might have lashed out on the Bilibian woodsmen and soldiers, but it wouldn't curse its own people and worshippers, right?

As the night drew close, they stopped to rest in the woods, unable to find their ways through darkness. Garet wished the days were longer. They couldn't set up a fire in case it would alert the Holy Tree of their location. Instead, they huddled under a fir with their cloaks and blankets wrapped around themselves.

Isaac claimed he didn't receive any wisdom from Saint Prox earlier, and that all he heard was a raging storm that almost tore his skull open from the inside. Ivan's description wasn't far from that either, which made Garet wonder whether he'd truly received a vision or simply hallucinated. But then, Isaac didn't hear or see the Wise One back in the Temple of Vale either and many other priests and templars did…

A prickling warmth suddenly crept into his shoulders and spread an itching sensation to his cheeks. Suddenly, he heard Isaac singing a soothing lullaby. Except… Isaac couldn't sing like that.

Garet shuddered and turned around, the warmth vanishing as soon he stopped leaning on the Earth Adept's shoulder. Isaac held Ivan on his lap, hugging the boy against his chest. An eerie light shone around the younger Adepts.

"Is he reading our minds again?" asked Garet.

"He's not reading _your_ mind," replied Isaac with a lazy sigh. He buried his nose in Ivan's hair, drawing a small whimper from the Wind Adept who seemingly was half-asleep. "His Psynergy keeps us warm."

"Wait, you mean you—"

Isaac reached out to grab his hand, but Garet bounced away.

"I'm not doing this," said Garet, sweeping his cloak around him and moving away to rest against the other side of the tree-trunk. Even if Ivan wasn't reading _his_ mind, he had no interest in listening to Isaac's thoughts for the rest of the night—how creepy was that? And how could Isaac agree to something like this?

"We wouldn't need to do this if you learnt how to heal." Isaac muttered, speaking as if it was _Garet's_ fault he had to subject himself to Ivan's questionable abilities.

Garet sighed and tucked his hands under his cloak, his mind returning to his important mission.

If Egil's words were to be believed, the raid of Sol Sanctum might be a part of a grander and sinister scheme.

Garet had read his history and he'd memorized it well. The wars, the sealing of the Source, and the rivers of blood that salted the earth... It all seemed so distant from reality in his mind, but after the latest turn of events, he couldn't help but fret about war coming to Vale. He _needed_ to find Felix, and he needed to find out more about this scheme of releasing Alchemy to the world. Felix's capture and betrayal, the powerful sorcerer with the magic sword, the light of Mercury and the treacherous priest, and now a wealthy scholar of Tolbi had been added to the mix.

How many parties were involved in the plot? This couldn't just be about a small band of power-hungry brigand mages.

A glow of light suddenly emerged from the top of his head and two orbs of light condensed to take the forms of small familiars with ghastly eyes without pupils. Contrasting light of red and blue radiated from the Djinn and Garet glared at the two creatures.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"What?" grumbled Isaac.

Garet looked back over his shoulder. Isaac didn't seem to have noticed the bright light shining behind him. The friend shook his head in annoyance and muttered something for himself as he went back to sleep.

"_Teeheeh-hee… _They cannot see nor hear us, Master."

Garet turned back to the Djinn.

"No need to speak aloud," said the spirits, as if it had read his mind._ "We hear everything, Master."_

They floated to hover above Isaac and Ivan, illuminating the top of their heads.

"_Look._ It's the runaway servant! Or is it the mighty Prince of Kalay? Is he the kidnapped Kadri? Or just a nameless thief with a convenient name and face?"

Don't you dare touch him.

"_Oh?_ We thought you disliked the little _liar?_"

The two Djinn then flashed and vanished in a rain of sparks, reappearing in Felix's visage.

Garet winced, staring at the illusion. He then told the Elementals that unless they had something useful to share—like Ivan's true identity—they should quit impersonating his friend and leave him alone. Fake Felix grinned and the illusion shattered as the Djinn retook their appearances as small familiars.

"In that matter, we only know as much as you, Master. We may only recall our past masters' knowledge and experiences. This world, it is as new to us as it is for you—we've been imprisoned for centuries, after all."

Garet sighed and opened the map André had given him. He ordered the spirits to stop flying around so that he could read.

"Interesting… Power, knowledge, glory. We offer many gifts. And all the Master wants is a night light."

He never thought he'd ever miss Isaac's advice. The Earth Adept's ideas might be outlandish, but he had the mission and their own welfare in mind. The Djinn? Garet didn't even know what they truly wanted.

He looked at the map. The Holy Tree was truly a powerful being. Everything sentient touched by its magic was assimilated into the local fauna—not even monsters could escape Tret's might. André had marked the roadblock on the map and it was miles away from Tret's grove—how far did the Holy Tree's all-seeing eyes reach? He tried locating his position on the map, but he hadn't opened it ever since leaving the barricade and all he knew was that they had ventured east.

"_Here_."

A pale hand pointed out his location on the map. Garet looked up to see the Djinn impersonating Felix once more, but he couldn't react before the illusion shattered in a shower of sparks.

"The village is just a quarter of an hour to your left," said the spirits as the last sparkle faded away.

Garet sighed and folded up the map. He leaned back against the tree and crossed his arms over his chest, lowering his chin into the hood of his cloak.

At first, he decided to ignore the spirits' advice. But then he looked over his shoulder and noticed Ivan had stopped using Mindread. Garet couldn't believe he was wondering if the younger Adepts would freeze without Ivan's powers. Lowering his face into his hands, he exhaled. Finally, he nudged Isaac's shoulder, waking the Earth Adept from his light sleep, saying they should move to a safer place.

Isaac murmured something under his breath, but he didn't protest. He roused Ivan and then shuffled to his feet. Garet picked up the packing and started heading eastward, praying for this to not be a prank of the Elementals. He cast a spell, summoning a tiny wisp of a flame to guide his path through the woods.

Hearing Ivan whine, Garet looked back behind him. Isaac had scooped Ivan up in his arms again and was clumsily treading through the snow. The Wind Adept worriedly gripped Isaac's shoulder, saying he didn't need to be carried.

"Isaac… I can walk."

"No!" Isaac didn't even realize he'd yelled at the Wind Adept. He stared back at Garet with a distressed look. "Th-the Djinn saved us," he said. "I-Ivan doesn't have any… I-I _need_ to… I can't…" Isaac renewed his hold around Ivan and whispered something under his breath.

"Let him down," said Garet, calmly gesturing to his friend. "We're both right here, don't worry."

Isaac reluctantly put the boy down, but he clutched Ivan's hand. Standing on the road that supposedly led to the village of Kolima, he told the boy to not let go of his hand in any situation.

"I don't want to be a bother to you," said Ivan, sounding slightly annoyed by his lack of freedom. "Can't you just order one of those spirits to stay with me and—?"

"What? _No!_" Garet and Isaac both answered immediately and almost simultaneously. He didn't know which of them sounded more desperate, but judging from Isaac's look, they were rejecting Ivan's idea for completely different reasons.

"Why not?" asked the Wind Adept. "Isaac?" He whispered, using a desperate, needy voice that Isaac certainly couldn't say no to. This time, however, the Earth Adept wasn't swayed.

Garet shook his head and picked up his pace, saying the village of Kolima was near, even though he couldn't see any light, smoke or anything else that indicated civilization. He renewed his spell and summoned another wisp, not realizing he'd stepped away from the group until the shadows of the tall trees suddenly started looking a bit too imposing for comfort.

He looked up and his wisp followed his gaze to illuminate something that looked like a window. Looking down, he realized he was standing in front of a massive tree that also doubled as housing for people.

What kind of place was this?

He turned around to look for Isaac when the shaft of a cold spear slid past his right shoulder and chilled his neck. His hands flew up in the air and his wisp disappeared. Yet, the warm light endured, glowing from the assailant's lantern.

"I hope for your own sake you're not a looter," a woman spoke from the shadows, and Garet instantly recognized the voice.

"No, Priestess—"

A flash of light suddenly shone in Isaac's direction and Garet's eyes grew tall. He grabbed Mia's arm and spun around, throwing them both to the snow before Isaac's stone daggers soared past above.

"_Peace!_" said Garet. "Peace, Isaac! _Please_ don't fight!"

The yellow light coming from Isaac's direction dimmed.

"Get off me!" said Mia. She shoved Garet aside and quickly rose to her feet.

Garet drew upon his Psynergy and a wisp snapped alive and illuminated the area. Isaac stepped forth, approaching the flame cautiously with his sword in hand.

"I recognize you," said Mia, staring at Isaac. "You're that… _questionable_ templar from Vale."

Isaac rigidly extended an arm towards the Wind Adept standing behind him and then raised his sword. Seeing the weapon, Garet stood up and hurtled over to his friend. He pushed Isaac's sword-arm down, telling the friend to not start a fight.

Mia calmly stepped forth, taking out the extinguished candle from her lantern and lit it on the wisp of flame before putting it back inside. Garet noticed she looked different. She was indeed the cold high priestess from Imil, and she still wore white and blue, but there was something odd about her, and it wasn't just the different hairstyle. It took a moment for him to realize, but he finally figured that the horseman he saw in his vision was _Mia_ despite her lack of a helmet and steed.

"Are you here to stop the people of Bilibin from burning down the forest too?" Garet stammered and his words felt jagged in his throat. It was a weak lie, but it was all he could come up with. He didn't quite understand why he felt the need to explain his presence to her—he was a man of a holy order too—but he didn't want to cross the High Priestess of Imil.

"You're late if that's your mission," said Mia. "The troublemakers were all turned into trees on their way to the holy grove."

"Oh…" replied Garet, looking back to Isaac who still hadn't put his sword back in its scabbard. "Uh—"

"There is nothing for you here, templar," said the priestess. "Unless you're looking for this kind of an end." She strode aside to the tall building in front of them and raised her lantern, letting the light shine on a cursed person next to her.

The hollow eyes and mouth and the shadows of the cursed person's face made Garet's skin crawl. Mia lowered the lantern to shine on the two smaller trees next to the bigger one. They were children, and from the group's frozen gestures and expressions, Garet could tell that the adult had tried to hide the children under his large tattered cloak that still hung from the branches that used to be his arms and hands.

His eyes then grew tall and he held his breath, realizing why he didn't see any light or smoke coming from the village. Mia's stern look faded briefly, but then returned to glare at Isaac who _still_ hadn't sheathed his blade. Finally, Ivan carefully pried the sword from his hand, but the Earth Adept kept staring at the priestess with contempt.

"So…" began Garet. "Could you show the way to the local temple, High Priestess?"

"Friends call me Mia," replied the priestess. "The Holy Tree is the sovereign in both society and faith. There is no shrine erected to the Saints here."

"Oh," said Garet. He didn't know how to feel about that, since this "forest-king" had turned the villagers into trees. He could finally see why the Bilibians were indifferent to the Kolimans' plight and called them heathens.

"What leads you here, templar?" Mia then asked. "Shouldn't you report back to Vale?"

"We found a messenger in Bilibin," replied Garet.

"Oh?" said Mia. "Then I suppose you're another curse-breaker sent here. Is it on behalf of McCoy?"

"Um... no. We're still searching for Felix and Jenna." Garet started to fidget. This felt more like an interrogation than anything else. "So, what brought you here?" he asked. "Mia?"

Mia smiled wryly and turned her face away, staring into the distance.

"Lady McCoy gave me one week to break the curse and re-establish the supply of wood." She raised her index finger. "One week, before the army burns Kolima Forest and this village to the ground."

"_Burn?_" said Isaac. The Earth Adept cast a wide look at the trees around them. "But… they're _people_—"

"_Dead_ people, according to Margaret McCoy," replied Mia. "She sent her men to cut down the holy grove. Now when it has turned into a disaster she wants to cover up the entire ordeal. Her men were carting cursed trees off to be burned when I passed by and interfered."

"That's just insane…" said Isaac with disgust. "Why go for an enchanted forest when there're plenty of trees around Bilibin?"

Mia looked back at Isaac with narrowing eyes.

"You Valians truly are ignorant of the rest of the world, aren't you?"

Isaac's face twitched and Garet lowered his eyebrows slightly as well. He didn't understand why she had to insult them.

"Do you know the importance of this shipment of wood?" asked Mia.

"It's for a palace," replied Isaac sternly. "_Everyone_ knows Lady McCoy wants a new palace."

"True, but do you know the significance in building it out of the ancient wood taken from _Kolima Forest_?"

Isaac stood silent.

"She wants to send a message," whispered Ivan glumly.

Mia looked to Ivan for a moment.

"So the rumours say," she said with a slight nod. "Many years ago she arrived here for a visit and didn't feel the village's tribute to her was generous enough. The Holy Tree scorned her. Margaret McCoy never forgets a grudge."

Garet cast a wide look around the area and renewed his spell. The wisp burned brighter, revealing more ghastly trees hiding in the shadows. He could see terrified people frozen in their state of shock and running for their lives. Others had been petrified begging on their knees. And then, there were those who didn't even know what came to them. They were all helpless. Much like how most of the Valians were during the tempest and the eruption. But unlike the case of Vale, no one came to these villagers' rescue. In fact, the very deity they worshipped had inflicted this tragedy.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" asked Ivan timidly.

"Tret wants justice," said Mia.

"But… these people are _innocent_." Ivan pressed a hand to his heart and gazed around the area at the shadows of the ghastly trees.

"You could tie up that _hag_ and drag her to the forest," said Isaac with a snide smile, shrugging his shoulders. "Good luck storming the castle, though."

Mia chuckled, shaking her head at Isaac's ridiculous idea, but she didn't insult him this time.

"Tret's is dying and lost in anger and grief. He sees all humans as evil beings now. Unless you have the voice of a powerful Spellsinger, words will only fall on deaf ears."

Ivan hugged Isaac's arm.

"S-so… all these people will remain trees until they… until they wither and die? Isaac… we're Adepts… isn't there _anything_ we can do? Garet, we have Psynergy. Can't the power of the Saints override the curse of an evil tree?"

Stumped by Ivan's questions, Garet cast another look around. The villagers had all his sympathy, but he knew nothing about curse-breaking. Curses were a dark, forgotten art and there were reasons it had been buried. Moreover, he didn't even know what kind of magic Tret possessed. He'd never heard of any Psynergy that could turn people into trees.

"_We_ may not be able to break the curse," Mia spoke, "but the Holy Tree can reverse the spell."

"What?" said Isaac flatly.

"Cursing Kolima was never the forest king's intent," said Mia. "If I can awaken Tret's true nature, he'll undo the curse."

"But didn't you say he won't listen?" asked Garet.

"The Holy Tree blessed me when I was a young girl. His gentle side surfaced briefly when he recognized my face. Only when I mentioned Bilibin did his wrathful side dominate him anew. He tried to curse me too, but my Elementals saved me from his spell."

"Yes," said Garet. He remembered that part from his vision. "There's still hope for Kolima."

Mia looked back at him and met his gaze. Her lips twitched and the corners of her mouth almost curled up in a meek smile, but her expression remained stern.

"You seem reasonable and resilient too," said Mia. "Would you be willing to accompany me to the grove?"

Garet looked to Isaac, gesturing towards the priestess and silently asking his friend for his opinion.

"What?" said Isaac, taken aback. He furrowed his brow and bared his teeth in an appalled frown. "You're _kidding, right?_"

Garet slowly raised his palm, asking Isaac what he did to anger him. The friend gripped Ivan's hand tightly and looked back and forth between Mia and him with an expression of shock and disbelief. He tugged Ivan's hand, trying to leave, but the boy put his heels against the ground.

"Isaac, she's _right_," said Ivan. "Tret cast the curse; he can remove it!"

Mia made no attempt to stop Isaac from leaving and merely watched him embarrass himself.

"This is _insane!_" said Isaac. "_You're all_ _insane!_"

"Are you afraid?" asked Mia softly.

"Afraid?" replied Isaac with a huff and a haughty grin. "Who's the one afraid of going alone here?"

A small smile dawned on Mia's lips and he closed her eyes.

"The offer is for your sake, not mine. I will not be able to protect you when I'm gone. I do not require your assistance, boy."

"_Boy? _How old are you to call me that? Seventeen? _Eighteen? Nineteen, tops?_"

"Age is irrelevant when your behaviour reminds me of that of a child."

Isaac shuddered. His arms became rigid and his hands clenched into fists. He sprinted towards Mia, but Garet quickly stepped in and pushed him back, telling the Earth Adept to calm down.

"_Whose side are you on?_" said Isaac, staring directly into Garet's eyes.

"I—" He worriedly looked back at his violent friend. Isaac breathed heavily through flared nostrils and his hands trembled. "I'm not taking sides…"

Garet looked to Ivan and desperately gestured to the Wind Adept to say something—he was Isaac's favourite, after all.

"You mean… you want to leave all these people to their fates, Isaac?" Ivan whimpered, truly sounding like a pathetic waif with that frail voice.

"We're not going into that damn forest,_ you hear me?"_ Isaac yelled; he shrieked like a banshee, which sounded incredibly unlike him. "We leave this place tomorrow and head _south!_ To _Xian!_ That's where Jenna is being taken to! That's where we should go!"

"But—"

"We're not Bilibian or Koliman; why should _we_ care? McCoy needs to learn responsibility!"

"At the cost of all these people's lives?" whispered Ivan.

"_YES!_"

Ivan let out a gasp that sounded like a sob and bounced away from the Earth Adept, lifting his wrapped hands and biting his knuckles. He scrunched his shoulders and looked so small and helpless that Garet had lifted a hand and half-way reached out towards him without even thinking. Isaac's reaction was naturally stronger; realizing how callous he sounded, he took a step forward and tried catching Ivan's hand, but the boy shied away as if he thought the Earth Adept was unclean.

"Ivan?" Isaac spoke softly, tentatively reaching out towards the Wind Adept again, but the boy took a step back and dodged his touch, refusing to look at him. Isaac clenched his fists. He didn't approach Ivan again after another rejection. Instead, he turned back to Garet.

"_What?_" said Isaac, hurt and humiliated. "You _know_ I'm _right_. If we fail to capture Felix _the entire world_ will be in danger!" He pointed at Mia and then at Ivan. "They're not Valians; _of course they don't care!_ But I thought _you_ knew better!"

Garet could only stare back at his friend, not knowing how to respond. Isaac could have said it in a less callous way, but his argument wasn't baseless. They _shouldn't_ waste more time when Felix already was three days ahead of them; saving these villagers wouldn't mean anything if the entire world ended up being destroyed.

"Isaac…" whispered Ivan, knitting his eyebrows together and looking down at the snow. He balled up his fists and then turned his violet eyes on the Earth Adept. "I… I'm _disappointed_ in you, Isaac!" He raised his voice, but he sounded as if he was about to cry. "H-how can you—?" He looked back on the snow, his small hands trembling. "Those—those are _people_. They are still _alive_, Isaac!" He then cast Mindread and closed his hands around Isaac's wrist. "I can _hear_ them call out to me!"

Isaac quickly pulled his hand away, backing away from Ivan in disgust and terror. The boy quenched his spell, letting his hands fall back to his sides in dejection.

"I-I… Y-you… You said an Adept is a Messenger of Good." Ivan began to cry. "You_ said_ we were supposed to help people in need! And now you… you're _abandoning_ all these people to their fates."

Garet stood silent. He didn't know what to make of the situation. It seemed that everyone was getting hurt and nothing good was coming out of this horrible argument. He looked to Mia, who silently watched with a stone cold expression on her face. He lifted his arms and gestured to her, begging her to diffuse this quarrel she'd started.

Mia solemnly cleared her throat and said she'd show them to the inn if they wanted a roof over their heads tonight. She began leaving, and Garet looked back to the younger Adepts. Ivan quietly tugged at Isaac's hand, but the Earth Adept angrily pushed him down on the ground and then ran off in another direction. The boy clumsily rose to his feet and started heading after Isaac, but Garet grabbed his wrist, telling him to leave Isaac alone.

"He's got Djinn," he said, "he can fend for himself."

"But he ran away alone!" said Ivan.

"He _wants_ to be alone! Stay with us, because he'll _kill_ me if he comes back and finds out you've turned into a tree looking for him! We'll keep a light at a window so he knows where to go once he's calmed down."

They followed Mia further into the quiet village. The massive shadows rising around them on the snowy path made him feel uncomfortable but he kept his silence. Stopping at one of the buildings carved out of an enormous tree, she opened the door and shook off the snow from her boots before entering. Ivan impatiently pushed past her and stepped into the building, rubbing his hands warm.

"This is the Lonely Maple," said Mia, heading into the common room and placing her lantern of the round table in the middle. She then went to light a few more candles in the room, revealing the cursed owners of the inn standing petrified behind the counter. "Beds are upstairs and the kitchen is that way. If you want food, make it yourself. No one's here to cook for you."

Garet sighed, heading past the common room towards the spiral stairs while Ivan opted to head to the kitchen.

He raised his hand and lit the air above his fingertips with Psynergy, heading upstairs. Seeing the lantern and candlesticks on a table in the middle, Garet lit them with his mind and snuffed out the flame above his hand. He looked around. There were two neat beds on either side of the circular room and stairs leading up to the next floor above. A single but large glass window looked out to the village between the beds.

Garet took the lantern from the table and placed it on the windowsill. He then turned back and dropped the bags on the floor at one of the beds. He took off his longsword, throwing it on the mattress and then seated on the bed, stretching his arms and legs with a groan. He lay down and closed his eyes with a deep sigh, only meaning to rest for a moment, but instead ended up taking a nap.

If he hadn't heard a door slamming shut downstairs, he probably would have slept through the night without supper. But he heard it and jolted up awake, clumsily running downstairs in worry.

To his relief, Mia and Ivan were still safe, sitting at a table in the common room.

Isaac stood at the door. He cast a glance at the table and then looked away, giving Garet a weary look and heading past him. Garet decided not to follow him and headed back to the common room. Mia was drinking from a flagon while Ivan had temporarily left—his half-full bowl of stew was still on the table.

Mia saw him approach and gave him a brief frown, telling him that Ivan had cooked for him while he slept. Garet raised one side of his mouth in an awkward and guilty smile, feeling ashamed that it seemed Ivan was taking care of him. He headed into the kitchen to see Ivan cutting up a piece of bread and putting it on a tray next to a bowl of warm food. It smelt rather nice, so he complimented the boy and apologized for taking a nap without telling him.

"It's fine," replied Ivan softy, smiling gently. He pointed at the wooden bowl on the table, and then told the Fire Adept there was plenty of stew left in the cauldron.

Garet nodded and thanked the child, picking up the ladle and one of the bowls.

"I'm glad I could help," said Ivan, taking the tray of food and leaving the kitchen.

Garet lifted the lid. The stew certainly smelt good, and he grinned for himself when he discerned the ingredients. Obviously, Ivan made this turnip stew to impress Isaac. Filling his bowl and then closing the lid, he went back to the common room where Mia still sat and absently sipped from a flagon.

"Can I sit there?" asked Garet, approaching the table and pointing at one of the chairs next to hers.

Mia approved with a fluid gesture and Garet placed his bowl on the table. He had merely sat down when Isaac suddenly shouted upstairs, telling Ivan to leave and "take his goddamn pity with him".

Garet gave Mia a low embarrassed laugh and excused himself, heading to the staircase. He was halfway up to the first floor when Ivan pitifully began leaving the room. When the Wind Adept saw Garet, he averted his eyes with a bitter smile, slowly taking the first step down the stairs.

"_Wait!_" Isaac suddenly called out and Garet then heard something clatter in the room. The Earth Adept then arrived to the staircase with an old lantern in his hand and offered it to Ivan. "Here, take this so—"

Isaac froze upon spotting Garet eavesdropping on the stairs. He looked surprised for a moment, but then he donned an indignant expression and grabbed Ivan's wrist, yanking the boy into his embrace and then guiding the Wind Adept back to the bedroom.

Garet incredulously shook his head and turned away, heading back downstairs.

"He's got quite a temperament—your friend," said the priestess.

"He's not a bad person," replied Garet, although he started wondering how many people actually believed him.

He seated at the table and started eating. It smelt nice, but it tasted rather bad. Most of the vegetables had been cooked to mush and the meat was tough and tasteless. Still, it was food regardless and he probably couldn't cook much better than Ivan, judging from Isaac's criticism.

"Do you know the owner of this place?" he then asked Mia. "Or are you taking liberties?"

The priestess turned her head sideways and nodded towards the two "dryads" behind the counter.

"Richard and Petra are old family friends," she said. "I haven't visited in three years, but they're not the kind of people to hold a grudge against me over a meal."

"No wonder you know so much about the place," said Garet, folding his arms over his chest with a smile. "You've been here before."

Mia chuckled, taking a sip from the flagon and looking past Garet's shoulder.

"Heh-he, I was twelve when I first came to Kolima on a trip with my father and—" Mia abruptly turned silent and closed her mouth. Her expression turned grim again and she stayed silent for a while. She took another, bigger, sip from her flagon and then continued in a graver tone: "McCoy was touring the lands with his new bride. The village chief wished to make a good impression, since the Bilibian monarch had been such a gracious ruler."

Garet finished eating the meat and vegetables in the stew and wiped his mouth on the side of his hand.

"I remember that festival many years ago," Mia continued with a smile. "The villagers had offered Lady McCoy a beautiful crown of flowers made from the leaves and blooms of Tret and Laurel themselves. Anyone in Kolima would have been honoured to own such a precious gift, but Margaret McCoy saw nothing but a useless wreath. The Holy Tree chastised her for her vanity in front of all the villagers. Margaret McCoy felt humiliated and left—"

"_Hup!_" Garet clamped a hand over his mouth after hiccupping and gave the priestess an apologetic look. He took the water pitcher and looked inside. The liquid seemed clean, so he poured up a cup and drank.

"In some way, this curse is a blessing for McCoy. Now, she has an excuse to burn down the forest. Shame that she doesn't understand the life of the land is bound to the Holy Tree. When Tret is gone, the forest will wither, and all these people will die as well."

"Well, isn't it a relief we're here to stop a disaster, then?" said Garet, clasping his hands with a wide grin, but the priestess's indifferent expression didn't change.

"I saw you in a vision," said Garet then.

Mia laughed with a snort.

"I'm serious! You had a helmet and you rode a horse, but I recognized your clothing and your crest. You were talking to the trees."

"So I was…" Mia nodded slowly, still not meeting his gaze. "Laurel told me the grave news: Even if I can wake Tret's kindness, it is unlikely he will survive this winter. Even if I can save the people, I cannot save Kolima."

"What do you mean? I thought the tree just went insane with anger."

"Do you recall how I told you Tret didn't retaliate until it was too late?"

He nodded.

"The guardian trees are at their weakest in winter. The forest grows strong in the other seasons, thanks to the forest king's influence and energy. But at the beginning of each November, he enters a long sleep to recuperate. It's not a coincidence that Lady McCoy attacked at this time of the year."

Garet suddenly felt very sick. He stared into his cup and whispered:

"So, even if the Holy Tree hadn't cursed the people, its death would still have devastated the land… How could Lady McCoy do something like this?

Mia smiled bitterly.

"She most likely doesn't know. I've only met her twice, and spoken to her once, but she doesn't seem to have any interest in anything that doesn't affect her directly."

Garet looked past the common room and out of the window to the night. He collected his bowl and eating utensils, rising from his chair when he suddenly heard Ivan's distant cry:

"_No!_"

The memory of Isaac sitting in the Imilian ward with a knife in his chest flashed in his mind and instantly, Garet dropped everything and stormed up the stairs.

"No, Isaac, _no!_" said Ivan, crying desperately as if something was threatening his life.

"It'll just hurt for a while!" Isaac sounded upset but not exactly hostile. "I'll heal you afterwards, Ivan, _trust me!_"

"_No!_ _Please!_"

From the top of the stairs, he saw Isaac standing in his undergarments, clutching an equally lightly dressed Ivan's wrist in one hand and his sword in the other. Garet could barely register the situation before Isaac yanked Ivan aside, sending the boy tripping into the table. The Earth Adept then slammed Ivan's right hand flat against the wood and raised his blade, but before Garet could blink a lightning bolt flashed from Ivan's captured arm.

The younger Adepts both gasped and cried out in shock and pain. Isaac released the boy and dropped his sword on the floor as a burning smell began filling the room.

Garet cautiously approached the scene, stepping towards the table where Ivan pressed his cheek against the table and trembled in fear. He froze when he laid his eyes on the thing Isaac had failed to cut off. Ivan's left arm was covered in tree bark and blood. His flesh was swollen and blood pooled from the cracks and grooves of bark. Garet felt nausea rise in his throat and he hiccupped, clamping a hand over his mouth and turning away from the sight. He heard Ivan scrambling away behind him afterwards.

"What's going on here?" said Mia, arriving to the scene. "What's this burning smell?"

Looking back, Garet found Isaac sitting on a bed healing himself with Psynergy.

"What's going on?" Garet asked the Earth Adept. "What just happened?"

He looked back to see Ivan cowering near the wall behind the other bed. Mia, after opening the window, stepped over to tend to the Wind Adept. She whispered words of comfort to him and a bright flash illuminated the room as she cast her spell.

"_No!_" Isaac suddenly shouted, bouncing to his feet and darting over to Mia and Ivan. "_Get away from him!" _He shoved the priestess, sending her to the floor.

Isaac let out a gasp that sounded awfully a lot like a sob. He lifted Ivan back to his bed and lifted the boy's right arm. The entire forearm was distorted beyond recognition; it was twice as thick as Ivan's other arm and it looked like a paddle covered with bark, and there were even small twigs with green buds in some places. The area where the wood merged with Ivan's flesh was red and swollen and it looked incredibly painful.

How did that happen? Didn't Isaac's Djinn protect Ivan? Did it happen when Garet took a nap and Isaac was away?

It took at least half an hour to get the younger Adepts to calm down. Isaac sat propped up against the headboard of the bed with Ivan in his arms. He'd put Ivan's bad arm up in a sling made out of his yellow scarf and covered it up with a blanket. The Wind Adept couldn't stop crying and whimpering about how much it hurt and how scared he was. He kept begging Isaac to not leave him and he asked Isaac if he'd still care about him if he really turned into a tree. Isaac didn't say a word, so the boy used Mindread nonstop while Garet watched from the table in discomfort. Mia eventually went downstairs, warmed a cup of milk and offered it to Ivan, saying it would help him sleep.

"He can't drink milk," said Isaac curtly.

Mia took the milk away and returned with another warm drink.

"What's in there?" asked Isaac, looking down into the cup.

"Honey water."

The Earth Adept took the cup and glared at Mia for a while. He then offered the drink to Ivan, who apprehensively shook his head with tear-filled eyes. Isaac said nothing and brought the cup closer to Ivan's lips.

"Don't leave me," said Ivan. It sounded more like a demand than a request.

Isaac nodded.

"Promise you'll be here," said Ivan. "Promise me you'll be the first thing I see when I wake up."

Isaac kissed the top of Ivan's head. The boy let out a sad sniffle. He then opened his mouth and allowed Isaac to slowly feed him the drink. Tears slid down his cheeks as he drank every last drop. He stopped using Mindread and his expression relaxed. He seemed almost happy when he was finished, giggling and then nuzzling Isaac's chest. Seconds later, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

"That drink must be really good," said Garet, looking at Isaac and the boy. "He's already asleep."

"She put a drug in it," said Isaac, speaking lowly as he brushed a hand over Ivan's hair. He then raised the cup and returned it to Mia.

"_What?_" Garet turned around to stare at the priestess.

"So you knew about the sedative," said Mia, looking down at Isaac. "Yet, you fed him."

Isaac refused to comment on his decision. Instead, he asked to borrow Garet's longsword.

"What? For what?"

"It has a cauterizing enchantment, right?" asked Isaac. He pulled the blanket back to show Ivan's cursed arm again.

Seeing why Isaac was willing to feed the drink to Ivan, Garet sighed and nodded. He was about to fetch the blade when Mia stopped him.

"_Hold,_" she said. "Before you take drastic measures, may I ask if you even know the nature of the curse?"

"Uh…" Garet looked to Isaac, and Isaac shook his head.

"Then you don't even know for certain if amputating a limb will save him."

"Well, do _you?_" asked Isaac, once again staring at Mia with a look of anger.

"No," replied Mia. "That is why I don't try cutting off people's limbs on a whim."

Trying to comfort his friend, Garet put a hand on the Earth Adept's shoulder.

"You're tired," he told Isaac. "Go to sleep. We'll figure out the curse tomorrow."

"_No!_" said Isaac. "If the evil tree attacks again—"

"Tret does not attack unprovoked," said Mia.

"It attacked us at the river!" shouted Isaac.

"That would be due to me," Mia replied solemnly. "Tret doesn't know how far his power reaches. The village suffered when he cursed the mercenaries in the forest. And you… your friend was cursed when I invoked Tret's anger."

Isaac began muttering for himself as he slipped out of bed. He adjusted Ivan and the pillow so that the Wind Adept was almost sitting up with the sling resting against his chest. He then went to the table and poured up a cup of water to drink.

"All this suffering because of a damn tree…" he said behind clenched teeth. He started speaking violently about how Tret was evil, making rigid gestures and slamming his palm against the table.

Garet tried to calm his friend, saying Mia would go talk to the Holy Tree tomorrow and ask it to remove the curse.

Hearing that, Isaac grabbed the lantern from the table and stood up.

"Isaac?" said Garet worriedly, directing a questioning look at his friend.

"It's my fault. It's my fault…" Isaac whispered for himself. His gaze flicked from left to right and he spoke quickly, unable to stem the flow of words pouring out of his mouth. "I can't let this tree… This tree… I can't let it kill more people. It needs to _die_."

He tried to leave the room but Garet pushed him back onto the chair and tore the lantern out of his hands.

"Isaac, calm down—"

"I can fix this… I'll fix this." said Isaac. "The tree is _evil_. It needs to die… I'll burn that tree. I'll kill it. _I'll_—"

Before Isaac could go on any longer, Mia grabbed the cup from the table and threw the rest of its content in his face.

Isaac gasped in shock. With cold water running down his face, he stood up and faced Mia, who glared back at him with authority. Garet raised his hand and shakily gestured to them both to calm down. The flame of the candle flickered when the lantern shook, and the shadows on Isaac and Mia's faces moved even though both Adepts stood still.

Isaac bared his teeth. His hand flew to the handle of the water pitcher, but Mia slammed her hand down and curled her fingers around its opening, preventing it from being lifted off the table. Isaac's other hand shone with Psynergy, and Mia cast her own spell. They swung at each other and their Psynergy shields collided, releasing a flash of light and a wave of force that pushed the table over and sent all Adepts stumbling away from one another.

Isaac had drawn his big knife before Mia's ice javelin even finished materializing in her hand, but neither attacked the other. After a moment of staring, Isaac threw his head back and laughed; a sad, yet amused cackle. He then tossed his weapon on the floor and threw himself in the other bed, burying his face in the pillow and pulling the covers over his head.

Mia let the long icicle turn into mist and disappear while Garet cast a quick glance at the mess on the floor. They both stared at Isaac's pitiful form for several minutes, and neither left the room until all sharp objects had been removed.

* * *

Isaac woke up hearing heavy steps in the night. He slipped out of bed, stepping towards the staircase on light feet. Barely able to see anything from his position on top of the stairs, he listened intently for intruders with a spell ready in hand.

He heard a door close and the faint light downstairs vanished. It became silent. He looked to the window and saw the dark blue sky. Isaac went upstairs to Garet's room and found his bed empty and neatly done. The Fire Adept's rucksack was still there, but his padded jacket and his sword were gone.

He tiptoed to the window and looked down to the snow outside, seeing familiar shadows leaving the building and heading down the road. Even if he didn't recognize Garet's shadow, he recognized the priestess's staff.

Dragging his feet back down to his room, he went to sit on the edge of Ivan's bed. He adjusted Ivan's sling and then gently brushed a hand against the little Wind Adept's cheek. The corners of Isaac's mouth twitched and curled up into a smile. He turned away and chuckled, letting out a low, breathy, bitter laugh.

They left him.

He laughed again, shaking his head and closing his eyes.

He was weak. He was weak and they knew it. He was weak, and he'd completely embarrassed himself. He placed a hand against his face and rubbed away the excess moisture leaking from his eyes. A warm comforting breeze then suddenly swirled around him, lifting his hair and caressing his ears and cheeks. He blinked and turned back to Ivan, but the boy was still lying limp in the bed with his eyes closed.

Turning around and raising his gaze, Isaac took in the sight of a purple little creature—a Wind Djinni to be precise.

"_Heehee_… Hello, Isaac."

A light shone from below and he looked down. An Earth Djinni suddenly sat on his lap.

Isaac swallowed his breath and jolted up on the bed, throwing his feet up on the mattress and launching the Earth spirit upwards where it joined the other Djinni in flight. He spread his arms and leaned back towards Ivan, staring at the two spirits above but thinking of the helpless boy behind him.

Ivan… Had the sedative worn off yet? Ivan… Could he wake Ivan if he tried?

The spirits flew closer, and their small shapes glowed bright. They circled around Isaac's head, sending a chill down his spine.

"_Eeh-heehee…_ how about another pact, Adept?"

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

The reason this chapter took so long is that I had to rewrite the first scene four times. Yes, this is another merged chapter. The Adepts were supposed to meet the McCoys, but I decided to just cut that part since it seems like unnecessary padding, considering that I won't have the party backtrack to Bilibin after dealing with Kolima. (Plus, McCoy just tells the Adepts to piss off anyway.)

In the old version, Mia and Isaac were way pettier and fought over trivial things and when they fought they actually went all out. Isaac tended to escalate very inappropriately and go for the sword/Psynergy immediately after being pushed or slapped. Both of them were also unable to de-escalate on their own, which pretty much made everyone look bad.

I changed the "protective Psynergy" that sheltered the Adepts from Trets curse because it only appears in one event and is never mentioned again. I couldn't make up a decent reason for Tret to spout exposition to the Adepts from miles away, so they get that info by other means.

And yes, Ivan hurt himself too when he tried electrocuting Isaac. He doesn't know his powers very well and the Adepts are notimmune to their own magic.

I'm not sure if it's apparent enough, but the Djinn that approach Isaac at the end of the chapter are Breeze and Granite. He already has Flint/Kite/Gust from earlier. If you want a full count on everyone's Djinn I have a page for that on the Wordpress I set up for this story.


	20. – The Spellsinger

**O**n Karst's eighth birthday, Menardi took her on a morning stroll to the beach. The spring breeze was cool and refreshing, and the sun rose in the horizon. The citizens waved to her and Karst happily waved back. Her family were all revered members of the temple and everyone knew their names.

Reaching the seashore, the sister took Karst's small hands and cast a spell to draw out her gift. She felt warmth rising in her face and spreading to the rest of her body. A ring of fire burst to life around her feet, expanding like a wave and sizzling as it vanished into the sand. As a flame began burning above her fingertips, Menardi changed its shape to that of a fluttering butterfly.

"Fire," said the elder sister. "You're a Fire Adept, Karst!" said Menardi, smiling with delight.

* * *

Fire burns. But fire also warms. A master of Fire Psynergy can do both.

Menardi didn't let Karst ever forget that. Before she betrayed the Saints and the Order of Prox, she held their teachings in high regard. She stubbornly held up the old tenets of Adepthood and insisted that Karst learned healing first even though the rules had long been adapted.

Conjuration often came to young Fire Adepts instinctively, and developing their early acquired abilities was more important than traditions, reasoned the Psynergy instructors. Healing become a specialisation—a choice rather than a mandatory skill to learn.

It was a choice for everyone else, but not for Karst, who had to spend her evenings reading and meditating with Rhen. At the time, she was miffed that Menardi refused to teach her properly while watching everyone else create fireworks in the skies. But later on, her ability to mend wounds would save a friend's life, earning her an early place in the Order of Prox.

Now that friend was in trouble again, and Karst was mending his injuries once more. Karst's face burned and her arms trembled as her Psynergy sank into the wound under her palm. The severed tendons on Reyvigne's arm reconnected and the gash stitched itself up, leaving no scar behind.

She panted and fell to the armchair next to the bed. As a young novice closed up the patient's clothes, Karst let out a deep sigh and wiped sweat from her brow. Even though the air was cold, she couldn't feel it through the lingering heat from her Psynergy. Her eyes hurt and she blinked hard, nudging Reyvigne's shoulder in annoyance, but immediately regretted it when the Guardian tipped over and fell haphazardly on the bed. Grudgingly, she pulled Reyvigne up and tucked him in. Turning her head aside, she cast a glance at the busy menders in the ward. All the cots were occupied and there were several makeshift beds in place if more patients were brought in.

A month had passed since Nora and Tenel's disappearance. Chief Puelle's search party could not find them, but Nora was last seen heading out of the north gate and Tenel followed in search for her. Their avian messenger came back to the north yesterday, stating that they were in Imil, confirming the truth that the Mercury Lighthouse was lit.

Joran had to step up as High Priest, and Zenon had been elected to lead the Guardians of Prox. There were no ceremonies; there was just a short notice and a meeting. There was no feast; everyone went back to work afterwards.

The terrifying hailstorms had lessened and there was no army of sorcerers coming, but the civil unrest had gone from bad to worse. Citizens had lashed out against each others, wrecking havoc on the streets. Even the Guardians themselves could no longer uphold a good example with many assaulting their own brothers and sisters before deserting. Some of the renegades stole boats and headed southward, but most travelled north beyond the walls.

Secondary healers like Karst had been called in to help lessen the pressure on the menders of the temple. Sickness had always been a problem in winter, but now people were getting hurt by the aggressive monsters and beasts too. Chief Puelle and the hunters had studied the creatures attacking the countryside. It was clear that they had gained elemental powers from the ashes of Aleph and the light of Mercury. Weak minded creatures could often not handle the powers of Psynergy. They would go insane and attack anything in their way. Defending the territory had suddenly become a difficult challenge.

Hunters had been torn apart by beasts. Even the hardiest huntsmen had been driven from their homesteads to the city by the renegades in the north. It was no longer safe to hunt—even in groups. All the defectors from the temple were all once mighty Guardians of the Order of Prox, and they had banded together in the north. They kept for themselves unless their territory was being trespassed, but as of late they had raided the land and driven huntsmen away from their homes.

The council dispatched Zenon to quell the mutiny, but the renegades were too powerful. The Guardians came limping back to the city with Reyvigne in the lead—Zenon had sacrificed himself to buy time for his team to escape—and now all of them were holed up in the ward and healing.

The renegades wielded magics powerful enough to rival the Ancient Heroes themselves. Zenon departed with the twelve best fighters in the city, and they were all defeated by a couple of turncoats who somehow could perform feats that would've killed or driven normal people insane before the spell was completed. A part of Karst still refused to believe that was true. Yet, she saw the meteors from the northern watchtowers, and she felt the tremors all the way from the city.

"Make way, _make waaaaay! _Karst, prepare a bed!"

Hearing Agatio shout in the corridor, Karst jolted to attention. Joran guided yet another wounded person into the ward and Agatio carried a second patient in.

"Gavin?" said Karst, her breath hitching as she saw her friend. "_Aife!_" she then called out, seeing the bloodied woman Agatio's placed one of the makeshift beds.

Joran hurried over to Aife, pointing and waving his hand and ordering a novice to fetch his tools. It was bad—if Joran had to cut her open to fix things, it was definitely bad.

"_Karst!_" said Khalor. "Come here!"

Seeing Khalor tending to the other hunter, Karst stood up and wobbled over to Gavin and the mender. Khalor had opened the hunter's bloodied shirts with his knife and revealed the deep gashes on Gavin's chest. There were signs of unnatural frostbites and Karst could see broken ribs under the torn flesh.

"Karst!"

Karst winced and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before drawing upon her Psynergy once more. Magic flames washed over Gavin's chest, purging the wounds. A radiant light shone from Khalor as he carefully mended the broken ribs and moved them back to place. He then closed the gash with his hands and healed it, marking the flesh with a scar.

Hearing Ralf call him from upstairs, the mender hurried to the staircase and left Karst to tend to Gavin. She stumbled, fumbling for support and placing a hand on the wall. She blinked hard and shook her head—this was almost as bad as being drunk on duty. While she did have enough medical training to mend, she couldn't conserve her Psynergy like Khalor and alternative between mending and healing.

Karst fetched a blanket and covered Gavin up, asking the hunter if he was feeling better. Gavin coughed and rubbed his chest, swearing he'd retake his homestead from the damn thieves once he was completely healed.

"You and Aife don't have any enemies," said Karst, looking to the other side of the ward. Joran was still trying to save Aife's life. "Who would attack you?"

"Your good brothers and sisters!" said Gavin. "They demanded we either join them or leave our homes!"

"Where's Eyvind? Is he all right?"

"He's _dead!_ The damn bandits killed him!"

"_Khalor!_"

Hearing the yelling coming from upstairs, Karst looked towards the ceiling.

"_Aaaah!_"

"_Kyle, no! Kyle, please, let him go!_"

_BAMM!_

"_No, Ralf!_"

It sounded as if someone was tearing the building down, so she stood up and limped up the stairs to check on the situation.

In the corridor, she was greeted by a flow of cold mist and a blue light shining from Kyle's room. She sprinted—or at least she tried to, and arriving to the doorway, she found Khalor nailed against the wall by two shining swords of light.

Kyle stood upright with the midday sun shining on him through the window. His hair and undergarments waved in a mysterious wind, and a dozen orbs of light circled around him like huge fireflies. He held up Ralf by the neck, choking him while Khalor soundlessly watched in horror.

"_Release—!_" began Karst but she couldn't finish before two of Kyle's glowing orbs transformed into swords of light and immediately flew at her like javelins. They pierced her armour as if it had been butter, stealing the air in her lungs and nailing her against the wall. There was no pain or blood—just the cold grasp of death chilling her to the bone. Karst likened the feeling to having every drop of blood in her veins frozen. Petrified, she could only watch as Ralf stopped struggling and fell limp in his beloved brother's hands. Kyle didn't give him a second look and dropped him behind the bed like a ragdoll.

She suddenly heard Agatio yelling downstairs again. The temple was under attack! She heard Joran suddenly cry out Reyvigne's name and a fire briefly illuminated the staircase.

"Reyvigne! _No!_ What's gotten into you?"

Karst's lips moved; she tried to scream, but she couldn't make a sound.

Kyle finally turned around and faced her, his cold blue eyes looking straight through her. She was going to die. She had no energy to fight and this Valian was going to kill her like he'd killed Ralf! Her senses faded away as her world became distorted by tears and pain. Her breath was stuck in her throat. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she desperately tried fighting against Kyle's spell. She weakly grasped the swords of light stuck under her collarbones, but her hands instantly numbed from the cold.

Pain suddenly ripped through her chest as if serrated spearheads were pulled out of her body. Without the swords pinning her against the wall, she helplessly dropped to her knees and hands. Khalor was freed too, and he fell behind the bed next to Ralf. The cripple lived; looking through the space under the bed, Karst saw him reaching out a shaky hand towards the limp mender on the floor.

Kyle swept his hand upwards in a fluid motion, tearing away the wall behind him and a large part of the roof too, exposing them all to the frigid air and a flurry of snow. Karst could hear the destruction and the panicked scream from the citizens below. She looked up, seeing that only part of the city-wide barrier was active. One side was unprotected—_north._

Kyle spread his arms and all the orbs of light circled around him in spiralling motion and then vanished. His eyes shone and his expression became blank. His body glowed brightly, brimming with energy as he lifted from the floor and began floating like a spectre. And then, he flew up skywards and vanished among the clouds in the blink of an eye. Seconds later, a bright star shone on the cloudy sky and began falling down to the city below. As it fell it glowed brighter, and brighter...

Karst heard the people cry out and projectiles were thrown upwards to disrupt the spell. The star connected with a javelin and exploded with a blinding light, releasing a powerful wave of force that sent Karst crashing against the wall behind. She heard Ralf scream and the building being torn apart. A sharp pain suddenly cut into her neck.

Her throat became irritated and she coughed, spitting out the blood that filled her airways. She couldn't breathe. She gagged and spluttered, her fingers tugging at the slippery shard lodged in her neck. Blood trickled down her chin, and blood began to warm her chest. Her mind was almost blank as she spluttered and choked, finally tearing out the sharp object from her neck. Despite all her knowledge of healing, all she could think of was how she didn't want to die. As her strength faded away, she spiralled down into a vortex of blurry colours.

Then, she awoke in a dark tunnel illuminated by a cold light in the far beyond. She was naked, lying on the cold earth. It didn't matter how much wealth one amassed in life, everything was left behind when crossing to the next realm.

Karst stood up, looking around in the cavern and touching the walls. Even though her hands scraped against the rocks and stones, she felt nothing. Looking into the ghastly light ahead, she began heading down the tunnel, cautiously walking at the side of the wall at first, but as the light grew brighter, she veered toward the middle. She realized she no longer limped—her leg was fine. Curiously, she looked up at the stalactites hanging from the ceiling like enormous teeth. What place was this? Was she truly dead? Was this the pathway to the Underworld?

"_Karst…_"

She heard a voice echo in the distance, calling out her name. She didn't know who it was. The voice was strange, yet familiar.

"_Karstine…_" it called out again.

Karstine. Only her mother called her by her proper name. But was that really her voice? She didn't remember it sounding like that…

"_Karst…_"

She tried to answer the call, but couldn't make a sound. She tried to yell, but realized her voice had been stolen away. Her heart beat like a drum as she started running towards the light, fearing that her mother might leave her behind again.

_Klop…_

She froze, suddenly hearing soft steps in the tunnel.

_Klop. Klop. Klop…_

Karst held her breath, staring ahead at the tall figure stepping out from a veil of light a few paces ahead.

The woman wore a cream white dress and a blood red apron. Silver armlets hung from her pale arms and flowing locks of dark red hair cascaded past her shoulders and breast. A glimmer of light shone on her brow and a helmet suddenly took form to cover her head. Sparks shone on her neck and rolled downward, painting the armour of a Guardian on her body. The woman stretched out a hand and a flow of golden light pooled from her gauntlet, shining brighter until it manifested into a sword balancing across her palm.

"Karst…"

Mother?

Karst opened and closed her mouth, still unable to speak a single word as her mother stepped closer. She stood rigid and breathless. Her mother looked just the way she remembered her. Tall, beautiful, confidant and strong.

Mother…

She mouthed the word again and the mother nodded with a gentle smile—she understood; she recognized Karst and she knew she'd missed her. Karst's hands flew up towards her chest and she pressed her palms over her heart. She couldn't move. She was afraid that her heart might jump out of her breast if she removed her hands.

"Karst, take this."

Her mother smiled wider and lifted the sword, once again beckoning her to take it, but Karst pushed it aside and wrapped her arms around the mother. She clung on tightly, she wanted to cry. She wanted to ask where her father was when she suddenly heard a male voice call out in the distance in song.

"Father?" she questioned, not even noticing that she'd spoken the word out.

_"RAAAAAH!"_

Hearing the strange strangled shriek from above, she instantly let go of her mother, who suddenly shone with an aura of yellow light. Her hands and her face disintegrated and her entire body crumbled to dust. Shocked, Karst turned back to where the song had come from, but she saw nothing but an endless abyss of darkness. Looking back, the light in the tunnel vanished.

She ran, heading towards the song that seemed to guide her through the darkness. The voice sang in the Ancient tongue, and it sang a song she'd never heard before. Even though her mind told her it could be a trap or a demon luring her into its mouth, she couldn't turn away, captivated by that clear mellow voice.

A radiant light shone on the floor and a large circle of golden light appeared beneath her feet. She felt someone grabbing her arms and legs and dragging her down to her hands and knees. Yet, whatever forces trying to hold her was weak, and she easily stood up and continued down towards the darkness.

She heard desperate whispers in her ears, but they were quickly drowned out by the bard. She felt hands grasping her, but the touch was brief, like a wave washing into shore. She felt something tickle her body and even slight pain as if she'd stepped on a needle, but her sense of feeling barely lasted for a second. Without even noticing it, she'd walked out of the circle of light.

A glimmer of light flickered in front of her and a rain of golden sand began falling from above. She could have sworn she glimpsed the ghosts of her mother, her father, Menardi, and even Rhen and Khalor in the sandy veil, but her steps did not falter.

She heard a twisted shriek echo behind her as the earth opened up and swallowed her whole. Yet, as she fell, she felt nothing but peace, consumed by the pleasant music coming from the depths.

Her mouth tasted like iron and she saw light shining behind her eyelids. Cracking her eyes open, she found herself lying in a wreckage of furniture and glass. She held something sharp in her hand and realizing that it was a large piece of glass she dropped it and healed the gash on her palm. Her hands then flew to her neck. It was smooth; there was blood, but no wound.

She tried to stand up, but failed. Her mind wandered back to Khalor and Ralf and she crawled into the wrecked room. The roof of the building was gone and most of the walls had been torn down too. Ralf sat cradling Khalor in his arms but whispering someone else's name. Khalor weakly blinked his eyes, but he said nothing.

Karst silently approached them. When Ralf saw her, he grabbed her sleeve and yanked her into his arms too, hugging her tightly and crying:

"Jenna… my girl. Felix… Jenna… Felix… My children…"

Karst sighed and turned around, looking past Ralf's shoulder and the ruined temple. Down on the north road, a battle raging in front of the closed gate. Guardians were fighting each other and civilians were fleeing the scene.

Hearing more explosions coming from the north, Karst looked towards the gate. A single sorcerer was on top of the stone wall, fighting off every Guardian in his way. It was Kyle. The man was a one-man-army or a demon—no one could stop him. He threw his swords of light left and right, freezing all the Guardians on the wall and knocking them off the watchtowers. He opened the gates and then jumped off the wall, escaping the city. Some of the Guardians followed him, leaving the dead and the wounded behind in the smouldering ruins while other tried to help the wounded after the battle.

Just as the dust began to settle, a bright star shone and fell from the sky. Landing somewhere behind the wall, it exploded with blinding light and a wave of force that shook the earth, tearing down everything on the nearest street and collapsing many more buildings in vicinity.

When the dust finally settled, the main street was littered with bodies and broken weapons. And the stone wall built by their ancestors had been torn asunder and perhaps half of the city lay in ruins.

* * *

The City of Prox was in great danger. The temple was a wreck. Most of the wounded had been relocated to different buildings and the clean-up process had barely begun. The shipyard still hadn't been restored and now the northern wall had collapsed. Karst could only hope that the city's storage of food was intact or everyone would die of hunger or cold before the Gaia Falls swallowed the continent.

Sitting upstairs in Khalor's family home, she finished patching Ralf's injuries and then covered him with the blanket. His face was blank and he'd remained silent as Karst healed his injuries. He'd lost everything. His children were gone and his wife and brother had turned traitor and joined the renegades.

Karst remembered Ralf telling her how the marionette was a powerful Adept, but even she couldn't believe the damage Kyle had caused alone today. He'd been like a dead person for three years. Who could've expected him to suddenly stand up and fight. Who could've expected the first thing he'd do was attempting to murder his best friend in cold blood and then lay waste upon the city?

Sooner or later, someone would no doubt try lynching Ralf for what Kyle did, and the poor man was already blaming himself even though he was completely helpless in the situation.

Judging from the way Ralf treated his friend over these three years, Karst thought Kyle must have loved Ralf immensely to deserve such treatment. But after seeing him choking Ralf in the temple, Karst could only feel pity for the cripple. He could have returned to his family in Vale, but he chose to stay. And how did Kyle repay his loyalty and devotion?

She sighed and left the room, closing the door to let the Valian rest. Khalor met her in the corridor after tending to Reyvigne injuries. His eyes were wet and he wiped his tears when he saw Karst staring at him.

"He's dead," he whispered, smiling bitterly as he walked past Karst and headed downstairs. His steps on the stairs were slow and he repeatedly touched the wall with his hand for support. He finally seated at the dining table with his face in his hands, letting out a sigh. Not long ago, he'd grieved the loss of one brother. And now, he'd have to burn another on a pyre.

"Did he say anything?" asked Karst gently. She grabbed the water pitcher but then looked inside and found that it was empty.

Khalor quietly grasped the empty wooden cup in his hand, looking at it with a furrowed brow. He bitterly chewed on his lower lip and seemed to _want_ to pour his heart out to her, but ultimately, he said nothing.

_Krrack._

Hearing the old lock turn on the front door, Karst bounced to her feet and quickly looked out of the window. A man with a tattered cloak stood at the door, his grey-blue hair and beard were messy bushes and his big shoes didn't seem to fit.

"Galen!" said Karst, surprised to see the stocky bard here. His face looked thinner than usual due to spending months in prison and his hair needed trimming, but the spellsinger was recognizable regardless.

Khalor's eldest brother opened the door and entered the house. Galen shuddered and brushed the snowflakes off his arms and shoulders, heading straight to the fireplace to warm his hands. He laughed awkwardly and gazed towards Khalor at the table. The priest clutched his cup and looked away defiantly.

"So... little mender," said Galen in his deep mellow voice. "How's Reyvigne?"

"Dead," replied Khalor dourly without even looking back at his brother.

The bard averted his eyes and stopped rubbing his palms in front of the fireplace for a second, his smile vanishing.

"So, when did you get out of jail?" said Karst, trying to lighten up the mood. She knew Khalor didn't consider Galen a part of his family, but they were brothers in blood and nothing could change that.

"What's wrong, Karst?" Galen smiled mildly. He stepped over to Karst and tapped her on the shoulder. "I thought you were the one crying to the council to set us free after Menardi's plot was revealed to be for the greater good."

"_Of course_ I want you freed!" said Karst, giving the bard a punch on the shoulder. "But… you killed people that awful night. The council wouldn't just let you out of jail for nothing."

"They have no choice this time," replied Galen, reaching up to grab the lyre hanging on the wall next to the fireplace. "Too many of those zealots are powered by the Djinn. Only we Spellsingers can thwart their powers."

Karst touched the side of her neck. Her stomach lurched. Djinn—beings of pure magic. No wondered Kyle and the renegades were so powerful.

"Reyvigne was one of the most devoted Guardians in the order," she then said, averting her gaze towards the floor. "To think that so many people died by his hand…"

"I'm honestly not surprised that he turned, as loyal as he was to the temple," said Galen. His words made Khalor twitch and lift his head slightly to glare at him.

"What are you talking about?" hissed the mender under his breath.

"All those turncoats, they were called to battle," said Galen, picking the strings of his lyre and testing it. "They all received the same vision from the Saints and were tasked with purging the temple."

Karst stared at Galen, confounded by the bard's words. She never received any visions from the Saints and there wasn't a single person in the city who would question her devotion to duty.

"What… purge?" Karst whispered hesitantly.

"You and I, Karst, we serve our people and ourselves first. The_ zealots_, they have chosen to side with the Saints even in this... war."

"They _know_ about the Gaia Falls," said Karst. She heard Khalor scrape his nails against his empty cup and turn his head away.

"I don't know what they have been offered," said Galen. "But maybe Reyvigne told you, little brother?" He tried to touch Khalor's hair but the priest slapped his wrist which resulted in an awkward moment of silence.

"So _now_ I'm your brother?" said the priest with a sardonic chuckle.

"I promised Rhen to put the past behind," replied the bard.

"You gave me away to the temple," said Khalor.

"And look what a wonderful mender you are now."

"No thanks to you, Galenos…"

"Khalor…" said Karst, putting a hand on the priest's shoulder. "Now's not the time for feuds."

"You and your brothers and sisters pretended I didn't even exist!" Khalor suddenly raised his voice. "Only Rhen and Reyvigne ever cared! You and Darius didn't even bother to explain your mission before collectively beating me up and stealing the Black Orb!"

"If we didn't beat you up properly you'd end up branded as a compatriot and join us in jail. At the end of the day you're still our little brother," said Galen. "And we _will_ take care of you and help you if you need us."

"I don't want your pity," Khalor replied, his voice low like a whisper as he tried to hide the sadness in his tone. He folded his arms over his chest and still refused to look at Galen, letting another silent moment pass.

"Joran is dead," said Galen finally. "By seniority, you are the next high priest, little brother."

Khalor froze and held his breath, slowly lifting his head to face Galen. The bard simply nodded solemnly in confirmation.

"No!" Khalor suddenly burst out, standing up. "I-I… I'm just sixteen! How can _I_ be the next High Priest? There are at least ten people ahead of me!"

"The only priests left in the temple are you, Hakon, and a few novices. Everyone else either joined the renegades or died in battle today."

Khalor sank down on the chair, aghast.

"I'm not here to talk for long…" said Galen finally. "After dealing with Reyvigne's funeral, I need to get back to the others and device a plan to protect the city from the zealots. And you two," he pointed at Karst, "you should get back to the temple and elect a new captain."

"I'm not ready for this…" said Khalor, his face blank. "_Joran_ wasn't ready for this… How can _I_ be ready?"

"How many people died today?" asked Karst, lifting a hand to cover the lower part of her face.

"I don't know…" Galen replied, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Too many. If Agatio didn't disrupt the turncoats, we wouldn't even have a fighting chance."

"_Agatio?_ The dumb immigrant?"

Galen didn't answer and tuned his lyre again.

Karst sighed.

"What did he do?"

"He sang."

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

Remember how by the end of GS:tLA the people in Prox says there were no capable fighters left except Karst and Agatio to ascended Mars Lighthouse?


	21. – Voices from the Past

**A**ll they needed to do was to ride a boat down the river to Xian, said Kraden. "What could go wrong?" he said. Well, _everything_ could go wrong if your ferrymen were _crooks_.

Felix already had a bad feeling about the plan when they first arrived to the riverbank; the two small boats only had room for four passengers each, meaning that they had to be separated. The ferrymen also looked highly suspect. Felix didn't want to be a person who judged people on their looks, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to trust the two ferrymen. They were tall and big and clad in thick wools and furs, and their faces were almost completely concealed by their hats and scarves. They demanded payment up front and their eyes seemed to light up when Solomon handed them a small pouch full of coins. Felix even caught them eying at the women and grinning for themselves.

He'd told Kraden about his worries, even telling the scholar that he couldn't swim, but Kraden had laughed him off, saying there was nothing to worry about. The old man took a seat in the first boat and Menardi followed, sitting down next to him. The scholar silently gave her a look and then ordered Solomon to board the same vessel.

Felix squabbled with his sister for several minutes before ending up on the same boat with Jenna, Alex and Jeremy, despite attempts to put her in Menardi's boat.

"Are you crazy?" said Jenna. "There's bad blood between us."

Menardi placed a palm against her forehead, shaking her head as Kraden chuckled.

"We're _dumb kids_ to her," Felix replied. "She'll protect you if you _need_ it. Who's going to protect you now—Alex, Jeremy, or _me?_"

Alex merely covered his smile with a hand, but Jeremy seemed less amused. Still, they both stayed silent as the boats finally set out on the river.

If the water wasn't frozen downstream, the journey would take about ten days. Save for the cold, Felix really didn't have any complaints. He was sleeping and eating well. He didn't even need to walk or keep watch at night. He was with good company and his paranoia about the water and the ferrymen vanished after the first night. On the third evening, they even camped at the riverbank and let the ferrymen rest properly.

When Menardi was in charge, the food was always hard bread—sometimes, there would be a fish or some root vegetables, but most of the time it was dry bread and water. Now they suddenly were having hot stew, cooked fish, white bread and even wine. Felix couldn't remember how long it'd been since he ate and slept well. That night on the riverbank, Jenna offered him a cup of warm milk with honey. The sweet flavour made Felix realize how much he missed his grandparents. He wondered how his grandfather was doing with the beekeeping and he missed his grandmother's scones too.

Jenna smiled and talked to him throughout the entire trip. She told him about their grandfather and grandmother; how they missed Felix and the rest of the family. They kept pestering Jenna about finding someone to spend the rest of her life with, saying they were old and that she was old enough for marriage.

She told him about Isaac, Garet and Kay; Aunt Dora fell ill and needed to be taken care of, so she and Isaac moved in with Garet's family for a period. Isaac grew close with Kay and Aaron during that time; they treated him as if he was part of the family and Jenna often saw him tending to Kay's garden. Garet became sort of a hero in the storm after bringing Isaac and Jenna back to the village. He became a templar, but he never let go of his love for poetry and music. Isaac tried the entrance exam twice—he felt that joining the temple could bring him closer to his father and Felix. His failure broke his heart because all he wanted was for them to be proud of him.

She told him of Stefan and Peter, whose father died in the storm. They both stopped fooling around and trained hard. They both became templars although Stefan was the one who proved worthy of inheriting the smithy.

She told him of Harald and the priests. She told him of Aunt Magda and Uncle Hans; of Grandpa Erik and Grandma Camilla; of Ellen, Lina, Lorenz and all of their friends. Jenna told him about _everyone_ in the village; she'd held back for months but now she'd finally allowed herself to be Felix's sister again. Even though Felix felt guilty for dragging his sister into his dangerous mission, he couldn't help but feel happiness too.

On the fourth night, it was cold and snowing and Felix folded his cloak over his head as a hood. That night, Jenna tucked him in with her blanket, bitterly saying she wouldn't let him starve or freeze again. Felix remembered the months he skipped every second meal to feed his rations to his sister. Realizing why Jenna was needlessly fixated on his appearance, he brushed the stray strands of hair under his hood.

"Jenna, you don't owe me anything," said Felix.

"You took care of me when I needed it," his sister replied. "You took care of Alex and Saturos when they needed it. You took care of a lot of people you didn't even know when we travelled with the refugees. Felix, you're too _good_ for this. I would've taken your place if I was an Earth Adept, but I'm not so the least I can do is taking care of you."

They kept travelling downstream on the boats for a week without hindrance. But on the eighth night, Felix fell asleep early after having supper in the boat. He was first to wake up when the ferryman screamed. A swarm of giant bats attacked the vessel in the middle of the night and the ferryman abandoned the boat in horror. Jeremy tried to fight them off with his sword while Felix wrapped his cloak around Jenna's head to protect her. Standing up, he drew upon his Psynergy and cast a spell.

A sharp pain suddenly exploded in his head and a wave of nausea stole away his ability to balance on two feet. He saw bright fire in front of him and water splash against the boat. He heard Alex and Jenna screaming at each other. Felix clutched the sides of his head as the pain grew worse. He wobbled and shook his head. He tried to heal himself but the spell backfired and punctured his skull with even more pain. Unable to think straight, he threw himself off the boat.

_KA-PLOSH!_

Dark water splashed against his ears and a swirl of bubbles shone briefly as he sank towards the bottom of the river. His headache was lifting, so at least something good came out of this mistake, he figured.

He blinked and looked back towards the surface, his hair sweeping around him as he sank. Then, he felt an arm coil around his chest and glimpsed a faint warm light shining behind him.

"Felix…" He heard a male voice speak his name softly and with affection.

Alex? _Jeremy?_ No, they never talked like that.

Feeling that the person was dragging him down, Felix waved his arms in attempt to break free. He twisted and turned. Bubbles escaped his lips as he tried to cry for help, but all he got was cold water flushing down his throat.

"Don't be scared," said the river-nymph. "I'm here for you."

Felix helplessly sank to the bottom of the river as the creature comforted him. His lungs burned for air, but he couldn't bring himself to fight for his freedom anymore—spellbound by the nymph's voice and touch. When it nuzzled against the back of his neck, Felix turned around to face his captor:

Faintly lit by warm comforting light, Felix saw short hair shining like gold, dark-blue eyes under thick eyebrows, and a long nose above slightly parted pale lips. Felix gasped and more bubbles exited his mouth. He didn't know what came over him, but with newfound strength he shook himself free and closed his arms around Isaac's torso. He kicked wildly, flailing in the water.

"Felix… I'm so sorry."

What was Isaac doing? They were drowning! They had to get back to the surface! And why in the world was Felix trying to save Isaac when he didn't even know how to swim?

"Felix…"

Isaac,_ swim!_ You're an amazing swimmer, Isaac, _please swim!_

"I can't… It's useless…"

Felix couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't believe that _Isaac_ of all people would say such hopeless things. Isaac never gave up when others did. Isaac fought to the very end and even beyond that. Felix grasped Isaac's shoulders and shook him in frustration. He tried calling out to his friend, but the only sound he could make was a strangled "Blub-urb."

Then, he noticed Isaac's broken lips and the bruises and cuts on his face. He cupped Isaac's jaw, and then looked down, seeing his clothes were old tattered rags and his body was missing an entire arm. He was covered with bruises, cuts and stab-wounds, his skin was pale like a corpse and his body was cold like death…

No.

"Felix…" Isaac whispered again, pleading with his eyes.

"_No!_" Felix cried out, gasping and panting in shock and disbelief. "_Isaac!_" He cried again, wrapping his arms around his friend's shoulders. His feet touched the bottom of the river once more as he pressed his face against Isaac's swirling hair.

"I said I'd do anything for you, you know?" said Isaac weakly, slipping his arm around Felix's back. "I said I'd die for you—"

"_Shut up!_" said Felix, sniffling as his words came out in short gasps. "Shut up, shut up,_ shut up!"_

_"_You're _fine_…" he then said reassuringly. "You're moving and talking. I can fix you. Let's get out of here. I'll fix you."

"I can't leave this place," replied Isaac sadly.

"You _can! _Please,_ try!_"

"Don't lie… You know I can't."

Felix's tears shone in the water before vanishing in tiny glimmers of light.

"Cold… It's so cold here." Isaac whimpered and weakly stroked Felix's back with his fingertips. His voice was small, quivering and frail… "I'm so cold… please, don't leave me."

Felix sniffled and held onto his friend. This felt so familiar.

_"Felix…"_ He then suddenly heard a female voice echo in the distance._ "Felix, please. Oh please, wake up."_

_"He's not breathing…"_ said another voice—male. _"…quickly, make way."_

_"Please, please, wake up, Felix... Please, don't die!"_

Felix blinked and looked around, his hair moving like seaweed in the water.

"They are calling you…" said Isaac; poor Isaac seemed to have heard Jenna and Alex's voices too and he gave Felix a worried look.

"Isaac—"

He didn't want to leave Isaac here. He didn't want to leave his little brother here all alone. Isaac hated to be alone. He was always so afraid of being left behind. And now, Felix had to leave him… again.

"I'm so sorry," said Felix. "I'm so sorry you got so hurt because of me. I'm _so_ sorry, Isaac. If I could go back in time, I'd take it back. I wish I could go back, and do everything differently."

Isaac stayed silent.

"I _have_ to go. I know you need me, but I can't stay. Not yet. But once I'm done, I'll come back. I _promise_."

Isaac said nothing, his cold hand sliding off Felix's back as he let go. This all seemed so familiar.

"I-I understand," said Isaac, his voice quivering. He folded his arm back and put it on Felix's shoulder and then extended it, slowly pushing Felix away until he was at an arm's reach.

"Isaac… no… please, don't hate me…" said Felix, longingly gazing back at his friend.

Isaac smiled bitterly and lifted his hand. Sparks of light gathered and condensed into a sword of light, lying down across his palm.

"A gift," said Isaac, looking away. "I could never be as strong as you. I couldn't be the templar you wanted by your side. And now I can't be anything. Take my power and do what you need to do, Felix."

"You don't even _know_ what I have to do, Isaac."

"I believe in you… my brother."

"Isaac…"

"Please," said Isaac, pleading with his eyes. "It'll be like a part of me is always with you…"

_"Alex, do you even know what you're doing? He's going to DIE! You have to HEAL him!"_

_"That's not how it works, Jenna! Hf… K-keep the fires up! Hf, you have to trust me."_

"You know what, Felix?" said Isaac, lowering his head and looking away. "All that talk about glory and fame… I don't even want it. I just wanted it so I could be worthy to be at your side. It was always 'Felix and that boy' or 'Felix and Kyle's son'. I just want it to be 'Felix and Isaac'…"

A breathy sob escaped Felix's lips. He slid his palms under the light sword, lifted it from Isaac's hand and then clamped his fingers tightly around it, not caring whether it would cut him or not. As he did so, Isaac's expression froze in a strange smile. His face glowed and then disintegrated; as did the sword in Felix's hands.

"Isaac!" said Felix. "Isaac, _wait!_"

A blinding light shone from his hands and swallowed the world.

In the next moment, Felix felt a crushing force pushing down on his chest repeatedly. He coughed and opened his eyes.

"_Felix!_"

It was night. He saw fire everywhere and his chest_ hurt_. The bitter cold chilled him to the bone and his wet clothing was making it all worse. He squinted and coughed, seeing a strangely dressed man sitting over him.

"Uuugh…" Felix whimpered as the stranger started fidgeting at his clothes. He yelped when the man slipped his hands under his shirt. His fist flew at the man's face and when the stranger cried out, Felix recognized his friend.

"Felix, don't move!" said Alex. "Your ribs are broken!"

Despite the pain, Felix pushed himself up with his hands and looked around. He sat on a patch of fresh grass and wildflowers, and five bonfires burned around him in a circle. Jenna stood with her eyes closed casting the spell, while Jeremy guarded her.

Felix chattered teeth and focused his mind, willing his Psynergy forth, but as he did a sharp pain stung his head and another painful headache took hold.

"Felix?" said Jenna.

He clamped his hands over his head, angrily slapping the side of his skull. It hurt so much. It hurt as if someone had taken several drills to his head. He fell back on the ground, grinding himself against the cold. It hurt so much. It felt as if his head was about to explode.

"_Felix!_" Alex yelled in desperation.

Felix rolled around on the ground. He didn't even know if he could breathe or see. The headache was getting _worse_ and hitting his head was no use at all. When Alex grabbed him he couldn't stop shaking his head, screaming and flailing like a madman.

A bright blue light suddenly caught his attention and snapping his eyes open he saw the ghastly shadow of Alex's fingers on his face. His headache finally stilled and he could breathe again, but now a different kind of discomfort took hold—numbness. As Alex kept using his spell, Felix lost his perception of the world. The last thing he remembered before slipping back into the darkness was hearing Jeremy screaming for help…

* * *

He awoke in a simple bed inside a building he'd never visited before. The walls were mostly empty and painted in a shade of white; the only thing Felix saw on them was a scroll written in strange glyphs. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and carefully freed himself from Jenna's embrace. Closing the duvet around his sister, he looked over to the table were the burnt out oil lamp rested in front of Alex's sleeping form. The friend was clad in a greyish and white robe, sitting at the table and resting his head on his arms as a pillow. A ray of sunlight shone on his head through the casement—it looked like dawn.

Looking aside, Felix found his clothes folded up on the nightstand. He took the red cloak and draped it over Alex's shoulders and then stepped over to the casement, opening it slightly. It was indeed sunrise. He could hear a crow caw in the trees as the morning light cast the winter landscape in shades of blue. Pressing a hand over his head, Felix sank down to the armchair next to the window.

Where was he? And what happened last night?

He had so many questions... He looked to his sleeping sister and his dear friend. At least everyone seemed to be safe.

A faint light then suddenly shone above his head and a golden wisp appeared in front of him. Felix gasped and leaned back against the chair, grasping at the armrests, but a child-like voice spoke and reassured:

"Hey, don't be afraid, Master! I'm just your humble servant!"

"Uh-huh…" Felix said with a slight gasp and a nod, staring at the ball of light. This light… it seemed familiar.

"I've followed you for a long time, Master," said the wisp. "_Eeeeeee!_ Ever since I first saw you in Vault, I knew you were an Adept! I'm so glad we have a pact now."

A pact?

Felix squinted, slowly sitting upright in the chair.

"You're a _Djinni_…"

"Yes, _yes!_" The wisp squealed. It flashed and then condensed to a small little brown creature with dark blue eyes. It was the size of a chick or sparrow, and it floated in the air without the aid of wings. Felix curiously reached out towards the little creature and the small familiar happily seated on the back of his hand—it weighted nothing at all.

Felix smiled faintly. He hadn't expected the Djinn to be so friendly… The artists who drew the pictures in the old Psynergy manuscripts weren't very accurate with their depictions, portraying them as grotesque monsters with claws and fangs. Still, he knew that the Elemental Spirits could change their form. Suddenly, he realized what this Djinni's golden light was.

"Isaac?" He whispered tentatively, gently caressing the creature with his other hand. "Is it _you_?"

"Eh?" chirped the Djinni in surprise. It then burst out in gleeful laughter. "Eeh-heeh-heeheeheehee! No, I am not your beloved brother reborn, silly! Although, I do like the name."

Felix averted his eyes.

"_Aaw_, don't be sad Master. If it makes you feel any better, it was all a dream."

Dream? It was all a _dream?_ Isaac _wasn't_ dead?

Felix let out a deep sigh of relief, leaning back against the chair. Thank the Saints it was all a dream. The Djinni flew a circle around his head, drawing a yellow tail of light in the air.

"There, there, Master…" it said, landing on Felix's shoulder. "Now when that's been taken care of, let's talk business, shall we?"

"Huh?"

"We have a pact, Master. When you touched the sword, you accepted me as your companion."

Felix paled.

"You tricked me!" He hissed at the creature, anger flaring in his eyes as he slammed his palms against the armrests.

"_Snnrrrk_…" Jenna snored and turned around in bed.

Alex stirred and the healer woke up, slowly lifting his head from the table and rubbing the back of his neck. He groaned and looked to the bed and then towards the door. Wobbling to his feet, he lazily scratched himself under the arm. But then he turned around, faced Felix, and a smile of joy and relief spread from the corner of his lips to rest of his face.

"Y-you're awake…" said Alex. "Felix, thank the heavens you're awake! You've slept for two days straight."

Felix watched the Djinni circle around in flight. He sat still as Alex touched his forehead with a soft hand.

"How do you feel?" asked the friend. "You don't look so well."

"Uh… I'm fine," replied Felix meekly. He took a deep breath. Couldn't Alex see the Djinni?

Felix lowered his face to his hand, shaking his head.

"I-I'm just confused," he said. He then looked at Alex's robes. "Wh-where are we?" he then asked. "And what are you wearing? What do you mean I slept for two days?"

"We're in the Fuchin Monastery. The robes, I borrowed them from the monks. I put you to sleep with a spell… but you didn't wake up even after it had worn off." Alex sighed and looked to the bed. "Jenna was about to kill me."

Felix groaned and rubbed his forehead.

"Fuchin Monastery… Never heard of it, but it sounds Xianese enough…"

"We're not in Xian. The monastery is located north east of the city in the mountains."

Felix scratched the back of his head.

"How… did we end up here? Where's Menardi?"

"I'm afraid we got separated from the others," said Alex, stepping back to the table. "I didn't see Menardi and Kraden's vessel at all when we were attacked by the monsters." He rolled out a map on the table.

"This is the location of the monastery," he said, placing his index finger on a mark on the map. "We came this way." He traced the lower segment of the Koliman River, stopping at a location where the river bifurcated. "We should have been here…" Alex tapped on the west stream, which clearly bordered Xian. "But we're _here_." He ran his finger along the east stream and traced it to the monastery.

"How?" asked Felix.

"I don't know. Maybe this was part of Kraden's great plan."

"_Eeheehee_… the ferrymen separated you," said the Djinni.

"The old man is an enigma," said Alex, muttering for himself. "I can't gauge him…"

"They were crooks, as you've suspected, Master…" said the Djinni, talking over Alex's voice.

"We can only hope Menardi survived…"

"He signed to his companion where the river split, when you all were asleep…"

"The monks didn't find anyone else at the shore."

"They planned to rob you clean and to take your sister for themselves…"

"Jeremy has been searching for them ever since the monks rescued us."

"Your sister… your _beautiful_ sister."

"YOU _BE QUIET!_" said Felix, slamming his palms on the table with all his might.

"_Eeheehehee_… as you command, Master."

Felix heard Jenna wake up on the bed and Alex stared at him with a shocked expression.

"Oh, Alex… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout—no, that wasn't even directed to you! I…" He gripped Alex's shoulders and shook him, locking his gaze with the healer's blue eyes. "I_ don't know_ what came over me—"

Alex calmly placed his hands on Felix's shoulders. He said they should head out and eat.

"You're famished," said the friend with a smile. "A little confusion is natural. Let's talk later, after breakfast."

They headed out to the dining hall after changing. The monks were already eating. Alex smiled and waved to the ones who bothered lifting their head to greet them. One of the monks gestured to the bowls on the table and told them to eat when the food was still warm.

Alex bowed and pressed his palms together in gratitude. He took three bowls and filled them with rice from the pot, waving to Felix and Jenna to come and eat, treating this place as his own home. There were dishes of cabbage and root-vegetables on the table. Everyone, including Alex and Jenna, ate with a pair of narrow wooden sticks. Seeing the Earth Adept's apprehension, one of the monks fetched a spoon for him. Jenna picked cabbages from the plates and placed them on top of Felix's rice with a smile. As they ate in silence, some of the monks began talking among themselves about a certain "Nyunpa":

"He hasn't eaten for days… He's really committed to the task."

"He is foolish; he is going to waste away for nothing."

"Hey, he's our eldest. Our master didn't leave the monastery in his hands for no reason. You saw the signs too."

"Coincidences."

"How many coincidences? A rain of broken stars, a blue light shines in the north, a forest grows over a night! These are _all_ omens of disaster matching the legends of destruction as described in the old manuscripts!"

Felix said nothing, but he could see Alex shovel rice into his mouth in attempt to hide his contempt. Curious, Felix gently nudged his friend on the arm, quietly asking what manuscripts the monks were referring to.

"The manuscripts of Saint Contigo," replied Alex flatly, "fourth edition."

"You!" said a young monk, looking at Felix. "You look smart. What do you say? Isn't it noble of Brother Nyunpa to try saving the world by becoming enlightened?"

Felix shrugged his shoulders in response, saying he didn't even know what that meant.

"To achieve enlightenment, one fasts to cleanse the body and mind," said an older monk. "Freed from worldly concerns, one can focus the mind's powers."

"How's that supposed to save the world?" asked Felix.

"It is nothing but an act of egoism," said Alex. It sound as if he was muttering for himself and Felix happened to overhear.

The monks glared at Felix's friend.

"How does one care about Weyard's fate when they are freed from worldly concerns?" asked the healer. He was talking while eating, something that Alex usually didn't do. "Your teachings are flawed." He then looked to Jenna and Felix. "What the worlds needs are heroes with the actual courage and resolve to go out and do something about the dying world; not pretenders and self-proclaimed saints."

"How dare you!" said the youngest monk, but the brotherhood around the table stopped him from outright decking Alex. The old monks shook their heads. Most of them left the table and the one who stayed said:

"Well, one may have many different opinions in this world, but… I wish you could understand our beliefs."

Alex smiled indifferently and finished his food. He then rose from the table and headed out of the dining hall. The disagreeing monk dropped his eating sticks and hurried after him as if he'd finally found someone sharing his thoughts on the matter. He didn't seem to have spent a long time in the monastery. It was either that, or he was here for the wrong reason.

Felix looked away and continued to eat, sloppily picking up more vegetables from the plates with his spoon, not caring whether anyone was staring or not. He was hungry and pride couldn't fill an empty stomach.

A golden light then flashed on top of his head and his Djinni manifested as a small familiar on the table in front of his bowl of food. Felix narrowed his eyes. He asked the Djinni what it wanted through thought, continuing to eat as if he'd seen nothing.

"We still need to discuss something!" said the Djinni, squealing in delight. "You have a little dilemma that needs to be tended to."

We already have a pact, replied Felix, lifting his cup of water and drinking. He probably looked like a glutton the way he ate.

"Aaw, Master!" said the Djinni. "Don't treat me this way… I saved your life out there! Had I not intervened, that spell you tried to cast would've surely driven you insane."

Felix didn't understand what it was trying to say, and once again he contemptuously asked what the Djinni wanted—a medal or a title?

"No need, Master. But do consider some better protection before walking into another ambush, eeheehee."

Very funny.

"_Not_ funny! Did you not realize you could not use Psynergy ever since your sister bludgeoned you on the head? In fact, had your healer friend not tended to you right after the mercenaries dragged you back to the inn, you would've _died_, Master. You're lucky that blow only disrupted the flow of your Psynergy!"

Felix stared into his empty bowl. So that's where the terrible headaches came from—his Psynergy was blocked. He worriedly looked back at the Djinni.

"If you do not use Psynergy and keep a calm mind, I'm sure you'll make a full recovery within a year," said the Djinni. "_But… _I can unlock your power immediately if you would permit it. However, that requires cooperation from you."

Did he have to sign away his soul?

"Soul? I'm an _Elemental_, not a devil. I need magic to sustain my life and you, Master, is a source. It lies in my interest to take care of you! Allow me to lend you my strength; that is all I want."

Felix now understood why the Djinn looked for powerful hosts… But why _him?_

"You have great potential and a special gift, Master."

Healing hands?

"Eeheehee… _May—be!_"

Felix paused for moment of thought. It sounded too good to be true, but he didn't exactly have much of a choice; he needed his Psynergy for the Venus Lighthouse. Ultimately, he asked what he needed to do for the Djinni to unlock his powers.

"Close your eyes and do not worry. If it tickles, just stay calm."

He took a deep breath and lowered his bowl on the table, closing his eyes and then waiting. A moment later he suddenly felt something rise within him and he snapped his eyes open. He was full of energy—every muscle in his body seemed to twitch and he felt hot and cold at the same time. He gripped his spoon. He was shaking and sweating. He could feel the immense power coursing through his body but he was too afraid to move.

"Uh… _Brother?_" said Jenna. She then lowered her voice and asked if he needed to go to the latrine. "Hey… you're sweating," Jenna then worriedly added. "Fe—Philip, what's wrong?"

Felix's mouth flapped soundlessly. When he tried to stand up he involuntarily bounced off the chair and began prancing around the hall in dance.

"It takes a while to get used to," said the Djinni. "But I promise your powers are much stronger now!"

* * *

Jeremy was as dutiful as a dutiful servant could be. As soon they decided to leave the monastery he bartered for food, asked for directions, acquired information about the road ahead and even found a guide. If no one knew he was Kraden's servant, one could've mistaken him for being the leader of this group of ragtag Adepts.

Menardi wasn't the kind of person waiting for people to find her. She was a healer, fighter _and_ a commander; if Kraden was with her, they'd probably have safely reached Xian by now. Kraden mentioned an Adept helping him open Venus Lighthouse. If Felix died Menardi could still train that nameless Adept—most "wizards" were weak because they didn't know how to hone their abilities.

For Felix's group, there were two paths to Xian—across the river or through a cursed forest.

Packing up, they left the monastery at noon, following their guide southward. Felix cast a look at the trees with a sigh. Hard rime clung on the branches and it was so cold that his breath froze as soon it left his nose and mouth. Yet, the forest standing ahead of them was lush as if it was eternal summer in the woods.

So this was the cursed Mogall Forest.

"This is as far I can take you," said the monk, stopping on the road. "You can always wait for the river to freeze if you prefer a safer route."

"We can't afford to wait," said Alex dryly. "We need to find our… aunt."

"Thanks for the help," said Felix, pressing his palms together in front of his chest and bowing. "And… thanks for saving our lives."

The monk returned the gesture before leaving them at the entrance to the woods. Jenna asked what dangers lurked inside the forest and Jeremy started relaying rather dubious information about crazy apes and ghosts. Alex stood quiet, his eyes never leaving the sea of tall trees ahead of them.

"Mogall Prairie…" he said in a low voice. "Who could've thought a forest could grow here over one night."

"You've been here before?" asked Jenna.

"Yes…" replied Alex with a weak smile. "I've visited most of Angara; Xian included." He then looked at Jenna and flashed his teeth, returning to his usual cheerful self. "It's a lively city full of wonders. I think you'll like it!"

Jenna shoved her palm into his face.

"Since when did you start paying attention to what I liked?" The sister huffed with a frown, drawing a laugh from Felix too.

As Alex began telling her about the foods and the fireworks of Xian, Felix took a deep breath and approached the forest, leaving the cold and snowy path and stepping into tall grass growing green. The rest of the group followed him shortly.

He let out a relieved sigh, looking up at the tall trees. The forest was temperate and humid and shrouded in mist; mysterious as it was ominous. A massive tree stood in front of them—it seemed at least a few hundred years old. Alex approached it and studied the fungi growing on the trunk.

Suddenly, a wild screech broke the silence and a creature dropped from the branches. It landed on top of the healer and began pummelling his face with shrieking noises.

"_Aa-AAH!_" cried Alex.

Felix whisked his hand. Piercing shards of flint cut through the air and hit the beast's lower back. Distracted, the angry ape dropped Alex and faced Felix with glowing yellow eyes. A light shone below the Earth Adept's feet and Felix quickly pushed Jenna away from him. Entangling vines shot from the ground and wrapped around Felix, crushing his ribs. He twisted and turned, howling in pain as the vines grew thorns that stabbed into his flesh like knives.

The agony didn't last long as the vines suddenly exploded in a vapour of light and his Psynergy closed the wounds within seconds. Looking back, Jenna stood in front of a swirling vortex of flames with Jeremy aggressively slashing at the creature trapped within with his sword. The animal let out a piercing shriek as it died, and to Felix's horror he heard responding cries all around him.

"Run!" said Felix, desperately looking around for an escape.

"No, _stand still!_" said Alex, darting over to his side and grasping his arm tightly.

Felix clamped his mouth shut and stared into the woods, seeing more murderous apes shuffling around in the surrounding foliage. Jenna let out a small gasp, but Alex and Jeremy each held one of her wrists. Her fire blazed behind them and it had spread to the massive tree. The flames cast long shadows in front of the Adepts and Felix counted the monsters… there were at least a dozen of them.

"Stay," said Alex lowly, as the few of those angry apes stepped out of the bushes.

They were Adepts, but—as Kraden had deduced—most of the beasts had acquired elemental powers too. These monsters were angry and bloodthirsty and insane enough to fight to the death.

He focused his mind, preparing a spell, and Jeremy raised his bloodstained sword defensively. After what felt like half an eternity, the creatures finally backed away and left the group alone, returning to the deep woods. And after another long moment of waiting, Alex finally released Felix's arm.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back and wait for the river to freeze?" asked Jeremy with a slight quiver in his voice. "I mean, _I'm_ not afraid," he then hurried to add in his defence, "but you don't look so well!"

Alex brushed his dirty blue fringe back behind his ear and wiped his forehead. Turning around he conjured a deluge of water and doused the fires. He might have looked confident earlier, but Felix could tell that he too was having doubts: Their "warband" consisted of two healers, one untrained Adept, and Jeremy.

"We need to press on," Alex then said, sweeping his cloak around his nose and mouth as the smoke grew thick.

He looked to Jenna who shamelessly clung on Jeremy's arm, her eyes wide in terror as she stared back at the smoking remains of the massive tree. Felix gently pried her away from Kraden's servant and led her away to a place where they could breathe properly.

"We're on our own now," said Alex. "We can't keep relying on Menardi to protect us."

The friend then turned to Jenna.

"You wanted to show her up, right?" he asked. "This is your chance. Prove that you can make the journey." He then looked to Felix. "This is only the beginning of what dangers we have to face. Our foes will become stronger the closer we get to releasing Alchemy… Menardi is a mighty sorceress, but she's only one person. She can't always protect us."

Felix painfully closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Prove that you don't need her, Felix," said Alex, grasping the Earth Adept's shoulders. "Only then, will she give you the respect you deserve. You're a prodigy, right? You've been a powerful Adept since birth, correct? Then _prove it_. Get us through this forest."

"_Hey!_" said Jenna, shoving Alex back a few steps. "You can't just put such a burden on him! Don't you see how scared he is?"

Alex coldly stared back at Felix's sister, his usual tenderness and playfulness completely gone.

"You and I, Jenna, we're both irrelevant," he said, each word clear and sure. "Nothing of importance changes if we die; but Felix is essential for the success of our quest. He has to live." His features then softened and he looked away, adding in a whisper: "Don't you understand?"

Jenna didn't reply, but she directed her gaze to the ground and rubbed the side of her arm.

"All right, all right," said Jeremy, finishing cleaning his sword. "We should leave before more monsters arrive to check out this smoking tree."

He took a box from his pack and put it on the ground, asking Alex to fill the container with water. As Alex conjured up the liquid, Jeremy withdrew a small needle stuck through a piece of wood or similar material. He let it float in the water and it turned around.

"What are you doing?" asked Jenna, picking up a large piece of wood from the ground and testing it against her palm.

"It's a compass," said Alex. "It tells the directions. There are different kinds—"

"We need to head southwest," said Jeremy, pointing into the woods. "That means we should go in that direction."

"Then lets go," said Felix, drawing his dagger from his belt.

The mists grew thicker the deeper into the woods they journeyed. The sky was barely visible above the crowns of tall trees. If he didn't know any better he would've said this forest was at least a hundred years old. It was amazing how it could've sprouted from an open prairie overnight.

Speaking of the night, camping here did not sound appealing at all. They had no tent, no tools and almost no food—the buns and bread from the monastery would be enough for two days if they rationed.

The sounds and the mists in the woods became eerier as darkness fell. It felt like they'd been walking for hours among the same trees and it was completely dark when they finally reached a large body of water. Jenna felt better about the situation when Alex told her they should be out of the forest soon—this lake was along the lower part of the Koliman river and the Mogall Prairie supposedly ended here.

Jeremy's lantern had almost burned out when they finally made a campfire near the water. Everyone was tired and Felix massaged his feet with healing hands while Jenna opened the bags and distributed the food. Alex had cut down a young tree during the journey and was sharpening it to a spear.

"That stick is way too soft for a proper weapon," said Jenna.

Alex shrugged with a smile and said it would still make a good walking stick. He then went to the lake and scooped up water from the river with Jeremy's compass-container. After cleansing it with his Psynergy and drinking, he passed the container around for everyone else to have their fill. Jeremy naturally volunteered to keep watch first, but Alex insisted that he should have company.

"You volunteering?" asked Jenna, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well, I can't trust you to stay awake as tired as you look!" replied Alex with a smile.

"_Hey!_ I'll have you know that I _can_—!"

"Shh…" Alex stifled Jenna's voice with a hand over her mouth. "You're loud," he said darkly, but then followed up with an amused smile. "You might attract the restless spirits hiding in the mists."

Jenna pushed his hand away with a frown.

"Let me tell you about the battle that went down here ages ago." Alex chuckled, making Jenna roll her eyes. He looked to the others and then cleared his throat, standing.

"So this all happened during the twenty-second year of the _War of Alchemy_, when the _great empire_ _of Alkohl_ entered the fray and clashed with the troops of a _mighty_ nomad tribe from the Mogall Plains…"

Felix stifled a laugh and Jenna couldn't help but grin and shake her head. Alex could probably make any dumb story seem interesting with that kind of commitment. He had talent for storytelling—shame that he joined the clergy instead of becoming a skald.

Felix tucked his hands under his sleeves, closing his eyes halfway and looking into the warm campfire. Hearing a squeal he looked up to Alex and Jenna briefly, watching the sister play with his friend like a child; laughing and poking her fingers into Alex's side where he apparently was ticklish. After a while they both calmed down and Jenna seated at Felix's side, catching her breath after laughing so hard.

"Hey," said Jenna, nudging Felix on the arm.

"Yes?"

"So, do you think… we can tell Isaac about our quest?" Jenna looked at him with a hopeful smile. "I mean, he'll listen if we just talked to him, right?" All the betrayals and lies were forgotten and her mind seemed to have wandered back to a time when Felix and Isaac still were inseparable friends.

"I… don't know," said Felix, looking away.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Jenna closed her arms around him, resting her head on one of his shoulders and draping her cape across the other. "You think Isaac and Garet will hate you for trying to save the world? You think Isaac will hate you for trying to save his dad? Come _on!_" Jenna gave him a light push. "_I'm_ the petty one and I forgave you, big brother."

With a sigh, Felix hugged his sister back. He absently looked to Alex, who met his gaze and responded with a sad smile before continuing to sharpen his stick with a knife. It was probably hard for him to watch this—Alex's family cast him out despite hearing his reasons.

Felix looked out to the lake. This suddenly reminded him of camping outside his house with his friends many years ago. Garet would tell them ghost stories that weren't really scary at all and Jenna would get overly physical with everyone around the camp. Isaac often sat silent and was always full of thoughts. Stefan and Kay would sometimes call him names. Sometimes, Felix wondered if Isaac didn't join just to not be left out—he seemed to only be able to relax when he rested in Felix's arms at night.

His mind wandered back to the dream he had when he fell into the river, feeling a twinge in his chest. Yes, it was an illusion conjured up by the Djinni, but it had _felt_ real. All those things the illusion said were things that the real Isaac would say. In fact, most of his lines had been lifted from Felix's memories.

Felix remembered how he snuck out of the village when he was ten years old and too brave for his own good; how Isaac had faithfully followed him into the unknown, and then gotten hurt because Felix couldn't recognize a steep hill when he saw one. He remembered Isaac grabbing him and falling too, breaking several bones in his small frame. Felix's healing hands failed him for the first time and Isaac cried and begged him not to leave him in the rain, saying he was cold and freezing and alone… And Felix left him behind because he couldn't carry his friend back to the village and had to leave him while going back for help. Yet, in the next morning, he smiled when he found Felix sitting at his bedside holding his hand with their fingers entwined. Felix couldn't even ask for forgiveness before Isaac had told him he that understood.

"Hey…" Felix gently lifted and lowered the shoulder his sister rested upon.

"What?" murmured Jenna.

"If we _do_ run into Isaac and Garet, let's do as you want. Let's tell them the truth."

"You sure?" asked the sister.

"You said it yourself; you're the petty one," he replied quietly. "Isaac is the forgiving one, and Garet doesn't hold grudges."

Jenna suddenly clamped her arms around him. Felix gently petted his sister on the head and she loosened her embrace a little.

"Hey!" Jeremy suddenly hissed at the group, standing up and unsheathing his sword. "Did you hear that?"

Alex stood up and gripped his sharpened stick, looking around.

"Hear what?" asked Jenna, but silenced when the sound of a distant howl echoed through the woods.

Felix stood up.

"Wolves?" he asked.

"No..." replied Jeremy. "It's the sound of a horn."

"A horn?" asked Jenna. "So someone else is in the forest? Could it be Kraden and the others?"

"We better hope so," said Alex. "_Look out!_" He threw his spear into the bushes behind Felix, shattering something with a rattling sound.

Felix spun around, pushing Jenna behind him. The sister shrieked as a skeleton stepped out of the shadows with Alex's javelin sticking out of its ribcage. Felix made a gesture and drew upon his Psynergy. A huge stalactite materialized above the creature and dropped down, shattering its body and then vanishing in a vapour of light. Amazed by how easy it had been for him to cast the spell, Felix was caught off guard by the skull engulfed in green flames flying towards his face. Luckily, Jenna saved him by releasing her own elemental powers, incinerating the monster with a plume of fire.

"Be careful!" said Alex, dousing the flames in the grass and the shrubs. "You'll start a wildfire!"

Felix gasped for breath, seeing blue lights glowing behind the trees further away. Jenna saw them too and desperately looked to the other members of the group.

"Uhm... Felix? Jerry? Alex? _Ideaaas?_"

There was no time for planning. Another skeleton attacked with a weapon and Jeremy leapt into the fray, punching the blade with his buckler and ripping the skeleton's hand off along with its sword. He decapitated the monster, but it didn't die and continued attacking while its allies emerged from the shadows.

Alex hurled a torrent of water at the incoming foes and washed them back behind the bushes. Seeing a flying skull hovering around Jeremy, Felix shattered it with a piercing shard of flint. He flinched when he realized that he could've killed Jeremy if he'd missed the target. The guard renewed his grip around his weapons as the foes approach him once more. Patches of grass shone at Jeremy's feet and he leapt out of the way, dodging spears and swords of energy rising from the ground. Alex kept knocking the enemies down with water Psynergy, but they kept coming back. His face was contorted in frustration and anger and short pants escaped his lips as he defended the group with rising difficulty—his spells seemed to drain his energy fast.

"You're not doing any _damage!_" said Jenna. "Drop hailstones on them or something!"

Alex winced and stopped what he was doing. He lifted his arms above his head.

"Rise, _hailstorm!_" he said in a hoarse gasp. His hands glowed brightly, and spheres of blue light materialized above the monsters. They sheared the air and then came crashing down, but the globs of liquid merely annoyed the foes with the deluge. Alex however, was caught off guard; an ethereal blade surfaced from the ground and impaled him. His eyes grew wide; he arched back, and then dropped to his knees.

"_Alex!_"

Jenna ran to their friend. Although his body seemed unharmed, Alex's wide eyes twitched in shock and pain and he let out strangled noises as if someone was choking him. When the blade of light vanished, he collapsed in Jenna's arms.

"Argh!" Jeremy was a surprisingly skilled fighter, but he was outnumbered and getting overwhelmed, stumbling as he struggled against foes that refused to die.

"Jeremy, come back!" Felix finally said. "_Now!_"

The servant parried one last hit with his buckler before retreating to the camp in sweeping stride. Felix focused his energy and stretched out his arms, curling his fingers as if he could grasp the earth. With a tearing gesture he split the earth below the creatures, dropping them into a crevasse. He'd never succeeded in doing something as destructive as this before and it was almost scary how easy it was.

A sharp pain then hit his abdomen and he stumbled back, squeezing his eyes shut as he grasped the offending arrow. Jeremy caught him and swiped his sword in the air, deflecting more incoming arrows and then pushing Felix out of the way.

As he painfully extracted the projectile and healed himself, the skeletons in the crevasse were crawling back up to the surface. To his surprise, a blast of flames suddenly burst through the ranks of enemies, incinerating the undead in the chasm and then vanishing without touching a single leaf in the forest.

Felix spun around to look at Jenna, but she shook her head nervously.

A light glowed beneath his feet and Felix hurried out of the way before the blade of energy could catch him, but he slipped on the mud and fell on his back. A flying skull engulfed in green flames appeared in front of his face, startling him. It would've bitten his nose off if Jeremy hadn't saved him, smashing it with the pommel of his sword.

Looking back towards the enemies, Felix saw fire explode among the foes as a shadow darted back and forth in-between the skeletons. He heard a familiar cry and then a body stumbled back towards the dying campfire, slipping and sliding on the muddy ground and dragging a trail of smoke behind. The stranger's clothes were all singed and tattered, his light-coloured hair was wet, and his eyes were covered with a blindfold.

"_Saturos?_"

"Hey kid…" said the northlander with a groan, panting and propping himself up with the ferryman's oar in his hands. "Need help? My raft is nearby."

"Where?" asked Alex, standing propped up against Jenna's shoulder.

"Look around the riverbank," said Saturos. "I came here hearing your voice—_Aaagh!_"

The northlander fell to his knees as he too was impaled by an ethereal blade, but he resisted the spell with a roar and angrily swiped his hand sideways towards the foes; a dozen fireballs were launched through the air, illuminating the area briefly before vanishing.

"You missed from _that_ distance?" exclaimed Jenna.

Felix wiped his hands from left to right, painting a wall of light into existence. As the enemies started hacking away at the barrier he made a circular gesture and bent the wall around the skeleton soldiers, enclosing them tightly in a cylindrical prison.

"Now, Saturos, blow them up!" he called.

"What's their position, _commander?_"

"Right in front of you!"

"That's _not_ helpful!"

Saturos held out his palm, sending a beam of energy and circling fire blasting through the darkness. It was deflected against Felix's shield and a hit a nearby tree, causing a big branch to explode in fiery embers.

"_Jenna!_" Felix shouted to his sister in desperation. "Do your worst!"

Jenna gave him a hesitant look.

"_Hurry!_"

A vortex of flames burst alive inside the barrier and spinning flames incinerated the skeleton troops. The barrier shattered in a rain of golden dust and embers and Felix collapsed to the ground exhaustion. He gasped and looked up, seeing Jenna's uncontrollable flames expand and settle in the grass and leaves.

"I found the raft!" said Jeremy. "_This way!_"

Felix quickly helped Jenna to pick Alex up from the ground. Following Jeremy, they all boarded Saturos's raft and set out across the lake before more monsters could get to them. As a storm of glowing arrows rained down on the raft, Felix tapped his hands against the wood, enclosing it within a dome of light that deflected the projectiles. At safe distance, Alex quietly healed Jeremy's wounds while everyone else helped paddling to the other side of the lake.

Felix could see the army of undead soldiers search the area and crossing a bridge leading to a small island in the middle of the lake. A huge tree grew there and the shrieking noises told Felix that territory had been trespassed. The demon apes living on that isle attacked the skeletons. Shrieks and roars echoed through the forest and flashes of light shone like lightning bolts in a storm in the misty forest.

When the raft finally reached the other side of the lake, Felix could feel the icy wind of winter beyond the cursed woods. He let out a sigh of relief, getting off the raft and helping his companions up to dry land. The fire on the other side was spreading through the woods. They had lost all their packing and food, but getting out of this mess with everyone's lives intact was good enough for Felix.

"Phew…" Saturos sighed in relief. "They weren't kidding when they said boating in Kolima River was dangerous."

"I thought Menardi kicked you out," said Jenna as Felix retrieved Saturos's forgotten pack from the raft. It had a rather strong smell and opening it, he found that it was full of raw fish.

"I left on my own," said the northlander dryly.

"Why are you following us then?" asked Jenna.

"I'm here to deliver a message. I'll be on my way as soon my task is complete."

"Oh? What so important you chased us all the way from Bilibin just to let us know?"

"Well, it's about… your _precious _Isaac. He's made some new friends."

Jenna's countenance darkened significantly and her eyes narrowed for a moment, but she snorted and tried not to show too much contempt.

"What about them?" she said.

"You want to hear about his new companions? Hm, should I start with the _adorable_ little Wind Mage or the _very beautiful_ Water Priestess?"

Felix spat out a breathy laugh, although he noticed that Alex for once didn't share his joy in Jenna's torment.

"How do _you_ know they are cute and pretty?" snarled Jenna. "You're _blind!_"

"Girlie, I've faced them at the lighthouse." Saturos wiggled his head from side to side. "I was also temporarily unblinded while spending a day as a tree in Kolima. Hey, if given the chance, you should try it sometime. Gives you a new kind of respect for nature—"

"You're so full of crap," said Jenna.

"I do not lie! An astounding hero, your dear Isaac is. He wanted to leave _all_ the villagers of Kolima to their wretched fate in pursuit after _you_. Aren't you happy that he cares so much?"

Jenna's indignant expression twitched and she closed her hands into fists. The uncomfortable expression told Felix that she might even be blushing, although he couldn't say for sure in this light.

"Well, I'm not just here to gossip," continued Saturos, clearing his throat. "Felix?" He fumbled around until his former student grasped his hand and declared his presence. "Good, I'll let you know that your old friends have made pacts with the elemental spirits—the Djinn. I've had my suspicions since the fight at the lighthouse, of course, but I wasn't certain."

Felix's eyes flickered from left to right. What was he supposed to do with this information?

"Your Fire Adept friend—what's his name again?"

"Garet."

"Yes, him. He and the priestess are able to channel the powers of the Ancient Heroes. I don't know what your precious Isaac can do, but it wouldn't surprise me if he'd bargained for the same power. Your friends are powerful enough to break the curse of Kolima, after all."

"So they burned down the evil tree?" asked Jenna, folding her arms over his chest and starting to mutter for herself.

"_Woah_. I heard they went toe to toe with the evil spirit _possessing_ the Holy Tree," Saturos waved his hands above his head, "cutting through hordes of monsters and then saving the tree king and restoring everyone to human form." He paused for a moment before adding: "Not much confidence in your fiancé, eh?"

"Who the _faen_ told you he's my _fiancé?_" Jenna yelled at the northlander, beyond furious.

Saturos tilted his head upwards and put a finger against his chin.

"Yes… _who_ told me about your little childhood marriage promise again?"

Jenna's eyes blazed and she glared at Felix. He couldn't respond before the sister kicked him in the shin and made him jump around on one foot.

"What _more_ did you tell these people about me?" screeched Jenna.

"I—"

"That you're sweet, smart, kind of stubborn," said the northlander, counting with his fingers, "a little egoistic from time to time, but—"

"I didn't tell you _any_ of that!" said Felix, clutching his hurt leg.

"Right_, _it was your dad!" replied Saturos, laughing.

"How close are you with my family?" said Jenna, angrily shoving Felix's mentor back. Saturos staggered but immediately took a steady stance, telling Jenna to show some respect to her elders.

As the Fire Adepts squabbled, Felix turned away with a weary sigh. He glanced around and then noticed that Alex had wandered off. Searching with his eyes, he finally found the Water Adept standing outside the forest in the cold. His hood was pulled over his head and his cloak wrapped about his body; he looked incredibly sombre for being the life of the party.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

I already cut two scenes from this chapter and it still ended up being so long…

Felix's Djinni is Sap if it wasn't clear enough.

Saturos going rogue is important because I want to establish that he and Menardi are not one unit. They are people—individuals, and they do not necessary have the same opinion. And in this story, they have _very_different opinions about the quest.

So why are the skeletons so shit that Felix/Saturos/Alex/Jenna can just AoE them? Come on, they are _skeletons_—of course they are weak. Also, this fight also shows that Felix's own little group has no one who can actually fight in melee since they _need_ an unmagical schmuck like Jeremy to "tank" for them.

The reason Saturos fails at ranged combat is that he can't see his target and has to guess their location based on his remaining senses. He could AoE them the first time because he was in melee combat. And yes, he got turned into a tree because he doesn't have any Djinn.


	22. – The Test

**H**e hadn't spoken to Garet for almost a week since the friend was giving him the silent treatment after an argument involving Ivan. Admittedly, Isaac said something he couldn't take back, but the entire reason for the fight was dumb to begin with.

It all began with the ordeal in the forest.

At first, Isaac didn't even know if heading into the woods was a good idea. He was content with the Djinn granting him the power to reverse Ivan's curse—Garet and the priestess didn't want his help, so he'd just get in the way. But Ivan convinced him to go into the forest. Ivan, timid and frail, held his hands and told him this was a decision he'd have to live with for life; regardless of whether Garet succeeded or failed, Isaac would be remembered as a coward if he didn't help.

So Isaac armed himself with a hatchet and a knife from the tool shed, and a bottle of flammable liquid he found in the kitchen. Garet might have hidden his weapons, but Isaac didn't necessary need a sword to fight.

He braved the woods, clutching the little Wind Adept's hand and the lantern. Following Garet and the priestess's footprints in the snow, he made his way down a path opened by woodsmen and sought his way to the Holy Grove. On his way, he found several groups of cursed humans standing in the middle of the road. Most of them seemed to be foot soldiers—swords, spears, shields and broken armour lay scattered at their feet—but there were horsemen petrified on top of their steeds as well.

Isaac dropped his hatchet and picked up a sword from the ground. He kept following the road, delving deeper into the woods. He'd forgotten how long he'd wandered in the snow and he didn't know how much further it was to the grove. The silence of the woods only made the journey more unnerving since he didn't know what to expect. He remembered almost passing out from the evil tree's mental attack last time and that was miles away down the river. Now when he was in its domain, what could it possibly do?

Seeing an ominous wind sweep down the road and moving the snowflakes on the ground, Isaac pulled Ivan close. He focused his mind and wiped a hand over his head in an arc, conjuring a dome of energy to catch enchanted dust if it was to fall. His lantern was raised, and his sword too. He carefully searched the area with keen eyes, ready for battle as well as for retreat.

But instead of monsters a bright flash came from behind the trees ahead. Following it was the piercing shriek of a madman echoing through the woods:

"_I_ control Tret's heart! I shall not let you do _anything_ to him!"

Fearing that Garet might be in danger, Isaac hurried towards the light, dragging Ivan closely behind. Once he reached the Holy Grove ahead, he found his friend and the priestess lying splayed in the snow at the roots of a giant tree—larger than the tree-house he visited in the village and probably a thousand years old. Its branches stretched high to the heavens—covering the sky like a web of darkness, and its massive roots probably extended far beyond the forest itself.

The entire clearing suddenly shone bright yellow and before Isaac could figure out what spell it was, huge twisting vines sprouted from the ground, thick like trees and carrying sharp thorns large as scythes.

Isaac looked back to the tree. In the light, he could see the face of an ugly old witch with glowing red eyes on the trunk—_this_ the "kindly forest king"?

"_Ah-hahahahaha!"_ The evil tree laughed. It gnashed teeth with a madden expression and its world-shattering cackle echoed through the woods. "Tret, the forest, and the village of Kolima shall all wither with me! And you… you shall die _tonight!_"

The enormous vines spiralled and began closing around Garet and the priestess, curling around the Adepts like a giant serpent of thorns and leaves and trapping them in a cage-like prison.

Isaac didn't think. He leapt into action. His hands flew to the bottle in his belt pouch and he took aim. With a spell, he launched it into the evil tree's face, blinding it with broken glass and oil.

"Ivan, _attack!_" he said. And within seconds, several lightning bolts flashed from above, shattering the largest branches with deafening crashes and sending a rain of wooden splinters over the grove.

The evil tree let out an earth-shaking shriek and the vines and thorns crumbled to dust, setting Garet and the priestess free. They knelt on the ground inside concentric circles of light—unharmed—and upon seeing Garet staring back at him in disbelief, Isaac realized he'd made a horrible mistake.

"_Tret!_" said the heartbroken voice of a woman from above. "No… _Tret_…"

Gargling sounds came from the evil tree that now stood in flames. Its glowing red eyes focused on Isaac, who protectively hid Ivan behind his back.

"_YOU!_" roared the evil tree. Its maddened expression lifted itself out from the trunk; a giant phantom skull engulfed in blue flames hovered in the air and called for Isaac's blood, leaving its body to burn to the ground behind.

Isaac raised his sword defensively and fixed his eyes on the evil spirit, which laughed and split into countless smaller skulls. They swirled around Isaac, screeching, hissing and trapping him in a vortex of vengeful souls and blue fire.

_WHACK!_

He gasped as something heavy as a pillar crashed into his arm, knocking the sword out of his hand and snapping his wrist.

_WHAMM! _

It hit him again on the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending him stumbling backwards into Ivan.

_WHAMM!_

It hit him a third time, leaving a huge dent on his cuirass and probably breaking a few ribs in his chest.

"_Isaac!_" Ivan screamed, but the little Wind Adept's voice was barely audible among the howling of the dead.

Isaac gasped as the ground under his feet eroded in a flash of light. He tried to get out of the way but something heavy whipped the side of his head, throwing him off balance. His left foot, caught in the newly created space on the ground, was held in place as the rest of his body tumbled, causing a rippling pain in his ankle and calf.

Ivan screamed in terror and gripped the Earth Adept so tight that it hurt. Feeling sharp nails dig into his arm, Isaac pushed himself up with his free hand. The intense pain and the unnatural angle of his foot made him realize the joint had been dislocated. He focused his mind and used his Psynergy, pulling up stones from the earth and hurling them at the skulls in attempt of smashing them, but they simply flew straight through the ghosts.

Lightning flashed and thundered, crashing on the ghosts on Ivan's command. But the spirits remained unharmed and instead glowed brighter in their shroud of blue flames.

Isaac clenched his teeth and tucked the frightened boy into his arms, seeking with his gaze. If he was a fire Adept, he could have summoned a vortex of flames and purged the evil forest once for all. He pointed his blade from left to right, shouting curses to the laughing skulls. If he was a Water Adept he could've frozen the skulls in a block of ice so that he wouldn't have to deal with them at all.

"Isaac… Isaac… _Isaac._"

Ivan's tears and whimpering pained him more than all the broken bones in his body. For what good were his powers if he couldn't even save his friends? He couldn't save his friends three years ago in the storm. He couldn't save Jenna back in Sol Sanctum and he couldn't save her weeks ago when they were separated by a damn river! And now, he couldn't save Ivan and Garet from a damn tree!

If only he wasn't an Earth Adept but a Water Adept instead, he could've saved his friends and family in the storm three years ago. If he was a Fire Adept, he would've won the stupid duel against Felix's lieutenant. If he was a Water Adept, he could've frozen that damn river and saved Jenna. And if he was a Wind Adept… he could've blown these annoying spirits back to the underworld with a windstorm!

_"GET LOST!"_ he said, swiping his good hand at the swarm of ghosts and sending a gust of wind into the darkness. The gale broke the illusion and dissipated the obscuring smoke and embers, letting him see and hear clearly once more. Soon he laid eyes upon the priestess fighting the evil spirit in front of the tree while Garet stood aside and quelled the flames.

"Isaac..." he then heard Ivan whisper from behind, awestruck. "Isaac, you… did you just—?"

Isaac blinked, staring at his hand. He wasn't dreaming; he could still feel warm energy pulse under his palm. The Djinn didn't lie to him—they could indeed change his Elemental affinity.

He focused his gaze ahead, seeing the priestess summoning icy projectiles, throwing icicle after icicle at the demonic skull but they just went straight through it without effect. The evil spirit released a puff of smoke from its mouth, disorienting her before attacking her with another spell. A felled tree lifted from the ground, slammed into the priestess's slide and knocked her off her feet. She summoned a shield of energy, blocking the next hit before it could crush her, but another smash from the log and the shield shattered and shrouded her in mist.

"_Mia!_" Garet shouted as the evil spirit lifted half a dozen logging axes with spectral forces, twirling them around its face like a whirlwind of blades.

Isaac said nothing. He swiped his hands in a familiar motion, summoning a hail of arrows. But instead of shards of flint, flashing lights fell from the sky like stars. They shocked and burned the phantom skull, forcing it away from the area where the priestess had fallen. Ivan followed up with a proper lightning bolt, stunning it and forcing it to drop the logging tools.

Then, a horseman engulfed in flames suddenly emerged from the shadows and rode into the evil spirit, running it through with a molten lance without breaking stride and searing the air with a wave of fire afterwards. Garet tumbled out of the curtain of flames as his fiery steed vanished. As his molten lance turned back to his templar's blade on the ground, the evil spirit possessing the tree was no more.

What in the world was _that?_ Isaac asked inwardly. When did Garet acquire such power? No wait, didn't the same thing happen back at the Mercury Lighthouse?

"Isaac… _your head!_" said Ivan. "You're _bleeding!_"

Isaac blinked as he suddenly started feeling the pain in his leg and chest again, coupled with a newly obtained headache. He pressed a healing hand against the side of his head on instinct, but his Psynergy didn't respond. He tried again, focusing harder, but again he didn't heal.

"Isaac? Heal yourself!" said Ivan, grabbing his arm and shaking it worriedly. "You might have a concussion!"

"Be quiet…" Isaac grunted as he jerked his arm away from the boy. The entire forest smelt of burnt wood and cinders and the smoke irritated his nose and airways. He coughed. He blinked hard and lowered his hand, staring at the blood on his glove. Why couldn't he heal?

His head felt too heavy and he swayed, fumbling around with his arm for support. Ivan was quick to catch him in an embrace, holding him up in an awkward position that strained his back, but Isaac couldn't move without inflicting pain on his bad leg.

"Isaac, please…" Ivan cried again. "Oh, Isaac… _I'm so sorry_, I shouldn't have told you to come here! I shouldn't have—"

"_You_ told him to come?" Garet's loud voice suddenly echoed through the woods, his heavy footsteps crunching against the snow as he marched towards the younger Adepts. Before Isaac knew it, the Fire Adept had torn Ivan away and started chiding the poor boy like an abusive parent.

Isaac blinked hard, still struggling with the headache. He could barely hear the words Garet shouted, but he saw that the Fire Adept almost slapped Ivan in the face and only aborted the move in the last second. Garet threw Ivan to the ground and then went on to scream at Isaac, calling him and an idiot among other reviling things.

Isaac felt anger bubbling in his throat, both from seeing Ivan hurt and from the unwarranted abuse—couldn't the idiot see how injured he was? He could barely keep himself propped up on his arms. Blinking and squinting in the dimly lit grove, Isaac wondered if he could make a nightlight like Sir Holier-Than-Thou. He lifted his right hand and closed his eyes, focusing on crafting a spark or a flame—anything that could light his way.

Sensing warmth rise to his palm, he opened his eyes to be greeted by a flashing orb of lightning illuminating the area with a cold white glow. Remembering that he no longer could heal, he moved the orb a bit further away from his body to be safe. He then exhaled and lifted his head, looking up at Garet who stared back in horror and shock.

"I need healing," said Isaac with an ironic smile. The haemophobe shied away as expected and hurried over to his new girlfriend instead.

Isaac slowly lowered himself to the ground, placing his cheek in the snow. A faint smile dawned on his lips as the headache lessened a bit. Suddenly, he felt a sharp tug on his shoulder as Ivan turned him over on his back. The opening of a flask was pressed against his lips and cold bitter liquid chilled his teeth. He squirmed, spilling the liquid over the sides of his chin and it traced cold paths down his throat. Ivan stopped pouring the drink and clamped a hand around the lower part of Isaac's face, forcing his mouth to stay open as he steadily fed him the rest of the potion.

"Drink it, Isaac. Please_,_ I love you, Isaac, please, drink all of it…"

He swallowed the bitter liquid and turned his head, looking towards Garet and the priestess who stood fussing over the dead tree and ignored him. He then looked back to Ivan, whose tears were falling on his face like droplets of rain. As the headache began fading, Isaac sat up in the little Wind Adept's arms. His leg still hurt since the joint needed to be manually manipulated back to its normal position, and this was something Isaac couldn't do himself. He had no other choice than to beg the priestess to fix his foot, since limping to Xian like this was not an option.

Ivan stood him up with difficulty, and Isaac leaned against the boy's narrow shoulder as he was being guided towards the other Adepts. He gasped and winced as his bad foot was dragged through the snow.

The tree murmured in incomprehensible noises in the light of Garet's wisp of flame. Resin leaked out of its mouth, nose, and from the closed slits where glowing red eyes used to be. Ivan's lightning bolts had carved a deep cut into the trunk and almost split its face apart—what was left of it was a charred mess of burnt wood.

Isaac averted his eyes. Good riddance. The world was safer without this monster anyway—now the tragedy of Kolima won't be repeated.

Isaac's nightlight suddenly caught his friend's attention and the Fire Adept turned around. Garet looked to the orb of lightning and his eyes grew wide once he realized it didn't belong to Ivan. Silently, he pointed at the orb and then to Isaac's face.

"It's mine, yes," said the Earth Adept with a glum expression.

"How?" asked Garet, his voice low like a whisper as he staring at Isaac in shock. "You're an—"

"I made a pact with the Djinn," said Isaac briskly. "They changed my Elemental affinity, so now I can manipulate wind too."

The friend gaped at him.

"You—_what_?" said Garet.

"I can control wind and lightning thanks to the Djinn," said Isaac offhandedly. "It feels a bit weird, but you saw how much better I fought. I just need to figure out my Wind Psynergy and relearn healing—"

_SMACK!_

Garet's hand crashed into the side of Isaac's face without warning, causing the Earth Adept to bump his nose into the side of Ivan's head.

The boy gasped loudly. He sounded as if _he_ had been slapped instead of Isaac.

"_Why did you hit him?_" yelled Ivan. "He's already hurt!"

The taste of blood filled Isaac's mouth and he licked the wound on the inside of his cheek. Defiantly, he glared back at the Fire Adept who stood rigidly in front of him, seething in anger.

"You have no regrets at all…" said Garet, giving Isaac a look of contempt that so many people had given him in the past—the priests of Vale, his old teachers, and even his late father. "You've no idea what you've done, _do you?_"

"_I saved your life!_" Isaac shouted at his friend in disbelief, rubbing his cheek in attempt to heal it and failing.

"You've killed Tret!" Garet yelled back.

"_I saved your damn life!_"

"Saved my_ what?_ The Water of Hermes heals the body _and_ the mind! We were going to administer a cure to Tret's madness when you _genius_ decided to rain destruction from above! Now it doesn't work because of the damage you did!"

The words hit Isaac like Ivan's lightning bolts and he froze in shock.

"I hope you are happy," said the Fire Adept in contempt. "Hundreds of people are doomed because of you. But at least you got your wish, right? You're a mighty Wind Adept now, and the 'evil tree' won't bother anyone anymore, _right?_"

Isaac gripped Ivan's shoulder tightly.

"_Why_ did you even come?" whispered Garet, shaking his head with an incredulous look.

Isaac averted his eyes in shame. Yes, why _did_ he even come? Why _did_ he think Garet needed his help? Did Garet ever need his help?

He lifted his gaze and looked at the charred remains of the tree. The priestess was trying to heal it with Psynergy but it seemed useless. He tried to limp forward, but Garet pushed him back to Ivan.

"What do you want _now?_" asked the Fire Adept, directing a glare at Isaac.

"I want to fix it…" replied Isaac weakly.

"Fix it?" hissed the priestess, turning around to face Isaac. "Tell me how you plan to 'fix it'?"

Isaac looked at the shattered branches above. Ivan wasn't listening to his thoughts right now, but he wanted to tell the boy that he wouldn't let him take the blame for this. After all, Isaac was the brilliant strategist who ordered him to attack.

"Look, I thought the tree was about to kill you two," said Isaac. "I just wanted to help."

"How about _asking_ what help we _need_ first, _Hero?_" Garet snapped at him again.

"You could have told me about your plan before running off in the middle of the night," said Isaac.

"You said it was a waste of time so I didn't count you in!" replied Garet. "You wanted to leave Kolima in _the morning!_ When was I supposed to deal with the tree if not _now? Contigo's mercy_, why do things go completely _rotten_ whenever I try complying with your _unreasonable_ _demands?_"

Isaac felt a pang in his chest and he winced. His blood then began to boil again and he stared back at Garet in anger and disbelief.

"Unreasonable?" he whispered. "_I'm_ unreasonable?" he then roared. "I came here, worrying about your safety and I saved your sorry ass!_ Look at me!_ Look at the blood on my head and the dent on my armour! My foot is _still_ dislocated if you haven't noticed!"

"Did you really do it for me?" asked Garet, narrowing his eyes. "Or did you do it for _yourself?_"

"_What are you trying to say?_" Isaac's eyes twitched as a wildfire raged in his gut, but Garet merely crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, which only amplified the Earth Adept's fury.

"Isaac, Garet, _please stop!_" said Ivan, breaking the argument with a shrill cry. "It's not important whose fault it is. What's important is saving the people of Kolima!" The boy then shook Isaac's arm. "Isaac, you reversed my curse!" he said. "T-try using your new Psynergy on the villagers."

Isaac blinked, looking at the little Wind Adept in surprise. Even now, Ivan believed in him. And for that alone, Isaac wanted to _try_. He pointed to the nearest cursed villager a few steps away and Ivan helpfully brought him there. Placing a hand on the tree, Isaac took a deep breath. He could do this; he'd received new powers from the Djinn. He'd reversed Ivan's curse; he could save these people too!

He focused his mind, gathered his Psynergy under his palm, and then let it out. His energy pulsed into the tree, spreading ripples of light over the bark, but his spell did nothing.

"Isaac?" asked Ivan.

Isaac looked at his hand. Did he do it wrong? He placed both hands on the trunk, leaning against the tree as he repeated the spell. Once again, the tree absorbed his Psynergy without visible effect.

"Isaac…" said Ivan, pleading.

Isaac bit his lip and looked at his hands resting on the tree. It didn't work… But it worked on Ivan. Why didn't it work _now?_

"Quit the theatrics," snarled Garet. "You're not getting any sympathy."

"He can do it!" said Ivan, still desperately defending the Earth Adept. "He removed the curse from _me!_ G-give him some time! He'll figure it out—"

"You were still mostly flesh and blood," said the sad voice from above again. Where did it come from? "These men and the villagers of Kolima are too far gone. The young wizard is not powerful enough to undo their curse."

Isaac looked around, sending his glimmering nightlight up to where the voice had come from. It illuminated another fairy tree in the woods, one much younger than the king of the forest. Was this his… _daughter?_ Did the tree have a family? Did he just kill the tree in front of its child?

"I-I…" He felt the need to apologize, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words. A part of him was regretful, but his mind chided him for almost giving in. He did the right thing—the tree _had_ turned evil and it would've kept murdering innocents if he hadn't ended it here.

"I don't know what to say," said Isaac sombrely.

"Of course you don't," said the priestess, baring her teeth as she stared at Isaac with a murderous look.

"Don't judge the boy too harshly," said the fairy tree. "After all, Tret's wicked side attacked you first."

"Laurel…" said the woman, still standing rigid and glowering at Isaac. "You are too kind."

"The water of the Mercury Lighthouse could have saved Tret…" said Laurel, looking upwards where the first light of dawn shone on her highest branch, "but your flask didn't hold enough liquid for these wounds. Please, leave this forest before—"

"_Wait!"_ exclaimed Garet. "You're saying it _worked?_ All you need is _more?_ Why didn't you say that earlier?"

Isaac's eyes lit up and he fumbled around the pouch on his belt, but then remembered he emptied the bag to bring the bottle of oil. He lowered his hand towards his side. More importantly, he remembered that his vial of water was meant for his own sick mother in Vale. Protecting the living was more important than caring for the lost. Moreover, was a small vial even enough to save a huge tree like Tret? Probably not.

Luckily, Garet freed him from the guilt and offered his spare water pouch to the priestess.

"Here!" said the friend. "More Water of Hermes."

The woman took the container and uncapped it, pouring a droplet on her palm. The water glimmered as it soaked into her white glove.

"How did you get this?" she asked.

"Justin told me to take some for myself… when I told him I couldn't heal."

The priestess nodded firmly. She sprinkled some of the water on the tree king's face and poured the rest into his roots below. The water gleamed and seeped into the tree. Tret's roots pulsed with waves of light that washed upwards, spreading to every broken branch and burnt twig. The charred bark cracked and then fell off, and new material regenerated on the surface. The cut on Tret's face closed up and his biggest branches gained new life, sprouting additional budding twigs in the morning sun.

"Tret?" said Laurel. "Do you hear me? Tret?"

The tree king opened his eyes. They were amber—not red, and they pooled with renewed life.

"I… feel a great power flowing through me," said Tret, his mellow and deep voice no longer sounding like a dying crow. "_Oooooh… _life flows within me again!"

"Tret…" said the priestess. "Will the forest survive?"

"Yes, child…" The forest king smiled and closed his eyes with a nostalgic expression. "Oh, I feel a hundred years younger. I feel I can even start spring season right away…" He laughed. "Sleep? Hah! Who needs sleep?"

"I'm glad, Tret…" Laurel chuckled. "I'm glad you've recovered…"

"Tret!" said Ivan. "The people of Kolima needs your help! Please, reverse the curse!"

"Ah yes, my poor wardens…" Tret looked to the cursed humans. "What have I done?"

The tree king closed his eyes. His entire being began shining like a golden beacon of light. His glow flowed down his roots and a web of light spread from Tret throughout the woods. It melted away the snow to reveal fresh spring grass and it climbed up every tree in the forest.

Isaac felt a warm breeze rise in the forest. He let Ivan lead him away from the tree in front of him as its bark cracked. The man trapped within lowered his arms and fell out of his tree as if he truly was just a lazy dryad. Groans and whispers emerged around the woods as the rest of the humans were released from their curse and the fairy trees laughed as the wardens scrambled for the rags that used to be their clothing.

Isaac smiled in relief and before he knew it he'd given Ivan a hug and a peck on the cheek. The little Wind Adept beamed and affectionately squeezed Isaac's arms. Ivan marvelled at the fresh grass and wildflowers at his feet and at the standing, flowering husks of trees around the humans. His mouth was agape, and he said he didn't expect the forest king to possess such great power.

"Tret has not always possessed this horrible power," said Laurel.

"Indeed," said Tret, his face still obscured by radiant light. "It began when those gemstones fell into my branches. I knew they did something strange to my being, but it didn't surface until McCoy's men took their swords to my wardens and their axes to me. My fury overwhelmed me, and those gems twisted my anger into a force beyond my control… and so my other side was born."

Isaac suddenly heard commotion in the woods from the rabble.

"The mercenaries!" said the priestess. "We need to stop them!"

"No need, child," replied Laurel with a smile. "After this, I don't think they will ever bother us again."

As the noise drew closer, Isaac looked to the narrow forest path. A naked man followed by a mixed group of angry men and women armed with rocks and clubs arrived before the fairy trees. Isaac gasped and covered Ivan's eyes with a hand—some of the villagers hadn't bothered covering themselves at all.

"I-I'm Ilya... l-leader of Ilyas Arrows," said the man in the front. He had a brown bush for a beard and his face was red with embarrassment and shame as he covered his privates with his hands. "I-I surrender! M-Margaret McCoy is to blame for this! I-I've told my men to pack up and leave. I-I want to apologize for everything wrong we did to the forest… and its people. I will disband the company and we will no longer serve McCoy! Please, l-let my men leave, merciful Guardians of Kolima. We only took the mission so we could feed our families."

"_Your_ families matter!" said one of Tret's wardens, shoving the mercenary. "But ours don't?"

"Yea, screw _us_, right?"

"I-I know we killed many of you in the scuffle," said Ilya, keeping his head lowered, "H-Holy Tree, d-do whatever you wish with me, but please, let my people go—th-they were just following my orders."

"Tret!" said the wardens. "Don't listen to him! They'll come back with a bigger army and wipe us out! McCoy says she always gets what she wants!"

"Yea, let's kill these bastards; they deserve it!"

Some of the wardens began kicking Ilya and throwing rocks at him.

"Vengeance only births more vengeance," said Tret calmly, "it's a circle of evil. Haven't you learnt yet, my children?"

The wardens abruptly stopped beating on the mercenary and stepped back in line, but many pointed angrily at Ilya and whispered hateful words.

"Moreover," said Tret. "I believe all of you are safe, since I cursed all the wounded before any life was extinguished. Isn't that right, Richard? Jennifer, what do you say?"

The wardens awkwardly shrugged and thanked their guardian for saving their lives.

"Child," said Tret.

The mercenary stood silent until Richard kicked him on the back and sent him falling to his hands and knees.

"Tret's talking to _you_, twat!"

Ilya pitifully looked to the Holy Tree.

"Y-yes, Your Holiness?"

"Bring your queen this message," said Tret. "If she still wants to make a palace out of my forest, she needs to come here and ask for the resources herself. Is that understood?"

Ilya nodded in affirmation.

"As for those who were uprooted and carried out of Koliman territory, bring them to my forest—I will reverse their curse."

"Th-thank you, Your Holiness!" said Ilya in gratitude, a breathy laugh of relief escaping his lips. "Your mercy and kindness won't be forgotten! I'll make sure the king and the people of Bilibin hear about what happened here today!"

"Good," said Tret with a yawn, withdrawing his powers and finally letting his light fade away in the sunrise. His brow was lowered and he looked at Ilya with stern eyes. "You may leave."

Ilya thanked the forest king once more and then rose from the grass, leaving with the wardens harrying him along the way.

"Get lost, scumbag!" they jeered.

"Yea,_ leave_, asshole!"

"And don't _ever_ come back!"

* * *

After the ordeal in the forest, the villagers paraded them back to the village as heroes, although Isaac felt no joy at all in the celebration. They had overstayed in Kolima already and then Garet insisted they stayed another day because he felt the curse of Tret was connected to the eruption of Aleph.

Isaac didn't see why they should care even if it was true. The knowledge didn't change anything. They _still_ needed to go to Xian, find Jenna, beat up Felix, and take back the Elemental Stars! The only reason Isaac agreed to stay was because they were all injured and needed time to nurse their wounds.

At noon, Garet, Ivan and the priestess sat with the rest of the Imilian Watch in the Lonely Maple discussing Sol Sanctum's raid. Isaac wanted no part of that and ate in the kitchen instead. He spent the rest of the day preparing for the leave tomorrow, making sure everyone had clean and mended clothing and enough food for the journey to Xian.

At evening, he prepared a bath for Ivan. He was adding hot water from a kettle into the tub when Garet decided to finally talk to him after spending the whole day with the Imilians.

"Hey," said Garet, knocking on the doorframe to grab Isaac's attention, "so we've joined forces with Mia and the Imilian Watch…"

"I know," replied Isaac, not even bothering to turn around to face the Fire Adept. "Ivan told me."

Garet stood quiet for a moment.

"So… we discussed the eruption of Mount Aleph and the gems that twisted Tret's mind to madness…" he then said. "Um... Do you think they could've been Psynergy stones?"

"_No_," replied Isaac, rolling his eyes.

"I know you don't want to believe it," said Garet cautiously, "but nothing else makes sense… I went back to the forest and spoke with Laurel and Tret. You know all those monsters we've been fighting the last months? It's possible that the Psynergy stones from Aleph drove animals insane because they couldn't handle that kind of power."

"You came here just to tell me all of this is my fault?" asked Isaac, putting the kettle on the floor. "Because I backed Kraden when he suggested we break into Sol Sanctum?"

"You know I don't mean that," said Garet incredulously.

"Then what _do_ you mean?" asked Isaac. He mixed the water in the tub with his hands.

"I wanted to tell you what we figured out while you were missing."

"Oh." Isaac wiggled his head. "Did you figure out anything _useful _then? Felix and Jenna's whereabouts? How about anything that could make our trip to Xian faster and safer?"

Garet hesitantly lifted his hands above his shoulders and then spoke with an eyebrow raised:

"Laurel said an evil forest has risen up to the south of the river?"

"Great, _another_ Kolima Forest." Isaac groaned and picked up the kettle, standing up straight as he finished adjusting the water temperature.

"No… Mogall is an entirely different case. It doesn't have a guardian and it's full of undead. The villagers say no one has ever returned from the woods."

"Uh-huh," said Isaac dismissively, drying his hands on the towel hanging from his left shoulder. "We'll be travelling with a priestess and half a dozen warrior monks," he then said, finally facing Garet. "What are you worried about?"

"Mia's companions are not templars—"

"Look, I'm more worried about whether we'll find Jenna or a corpse thanks to us overstaying here!" Isaac gestured upwards with an open hand. "We can take down the Holy Tree—do you think a bunch of walking corpses can stop us?"

Garet didn't reply and searched with his gaze around the room. Ultimately, he changed the subject:

"You're preparing a bath for Ivan, right?"

"Yes." Isaac sighed with annoyance. "Isn't it obvious?"

Garet said nothing for a moment and drew in a deep breath. He retrieved a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to the Earth Adept. Isaac unfolded it with a shake of his hand. It was a portrait of Ivan.

"I got it from André," said Garet. "The boy on the picture is a lost valet named Kadri."

"Really?" scoffed Isaac. "He looks like Ivan."

"Kadri was _kidnapped_ in Bilibin three month ago—at the same time we arrived in town,"

"What does this have to do with _us?_"

"I don't think Ivan is who you think he is," said Garet lowly with a concerned look.

"Then who _is_ he?" asked Isaac incredulously.

Garet simply stared at him and then nodded towards the poster in his hand.

Isaac shook his head and sighed. He began leaving the bathroom with the kettle.

"I talked to Mia about my letter to the temple," Garet said, stopping Isaac in the hall. "It was delivered by those arrogant mercenaries who refused to take our request. The Silver Eagles normally only work for people of importance. Have you noticed Ivan's gold signet ring?"

"I haven't noticed," said Isaac truthfully, narrowing his eyes.

"Isaac—"

"_What_ exactly do you want to say?" Isaac spun around and gave his friend an irritated glare. "Can you get to the point? Unlike you, I actually have things to do!"

Garet sighed deeply.

"Mia's sending two of her men back to Bilibin. Leave Ivan with—"

"Hah hah ha!" Isaac laughed and tossed his head back contemptuously. He couldn't believe _this_ was the point of the whole conversation—to make him ditch Ivan.

"Did you remember that box he was carrying in the Goma Ranges?" asked Garet. "The one with the old staff? The one that was missing when he suddenly wanted to tag along with us to Imil? André told me that Kadri turned in a treasure to the Bilibian watch before he went missing. There _has_ to be more to Ivan than it looks—_look_ at the money offered for his return. That's a fortune for most people."

"Ivan is our _friend_," said Isaac.

"But are we _his_ friends?" asked Garet. "He repeatedly lied to us in the past and he's _still_ lying." The Fire Adept pointed at the poster. "He said his master abandoned him, but the truth is that the Queen of Kalay has refused to renew any trade contracts until Kadri is found. We might be mistaken for _kidnapping_ _him_ if we keep him."

Isaac had forgotten the reason why Ivan couldn't go back to Kalay, but he remembered Ivan crying on him on the streets and saying that Isaac was all he had in the world. And maybe that was true—Garet left him all alone in the Bilibian temple and now he was suggesting they turn Ivan in for money.

_"_Kadri's not twelve—he turns _sixteen_ next May," continued Garet. "He's not a naïve little boy—he's a manipulative liar and telepath. Remember the conceited noble in Vault who rebuffed your advances and then tried to 'buy' you? The pathetic waif act is just a way to get you to like him. I don't know what he's really after but he's clearly using us to get what he wants, whether it is Psynergy training or a ticket to Vale."

Isaac felt heat rising to his face. He couldn't tell whether it was due to embarrassment or fury. But if it was fury, he couldn't tell who he was mad at—Ivan, Garet, or himself.

"Ever wondered why Ivan refuses to change in front of us even though we're all men?" asked Garet.

Isaac clutched the handle of the kettle and laughed dryly.

"Are you telling me Ivan is a girl in disguise now?"

"Kadri is disfigured," said Garet. "Before you insist bringing Ivan with us tomorrow, check his body for scars and the large identifying birthmark described on that poster."

Isaac froze. He then angrily crumpled the paper and showed it to Garet:

"I've known Ivan long enough that I trust him."

"Except, _do_ you even know him?" asked Garet. "He's been lying to us the entire time. This is the bards in the woods all over—"

"_Don't_ mix him together with those _scumbags!_" said Isaac. "Ivan is _not_ a thief!"

"He didn't steal from us, but who _knows_ what he's after?" retorted Garet. "I'm warning you because you're a _friend_, Isaac. That boy constantly reads your mind and he obsesses over two things—Vale and magic. I wouldn't be surprised if the things he really wants are in Vale and he's using you as a ticket because you're—"

"He wants a _family!_" said Isaac.

"If that's what you believe, then I hope you're right," Garet finished. With that, he left the Earth Adept alone.

Isaac stood slack jawed in the corridor for a moment, panting in rage. He wiped the sweat on his brow with his towel after Garet's footsteps had died away. Slowly, he straightened out the crumpled poster in his hand and gazed upon the portrait. Kadri, huh?

Heading upstairs, he found Ivan sitting on the bed and reading a book. He leaned against the headboard and sat with his feet under the blanket, looking tired. Isaac studied Ivan's thoughtful expression. He tried remembering a conceited noble in Vault, but all he saw was a helpless battered child begging for help.

"The water's warm," said Isaac, putting on a friendly smile as he knocked on the wall.

Ivan nodded and closed the book, getting off the bed and letting Isaac lead him downstairs. Halfway down the staircase Isaac showed Ivan the picture of Kadri.

"Hey, look at this," said Isaac, studying the boy's reaction closely. "I found this on the townboard. This kid looks a bit like you."

Ivan froze on the staircase and held the wrinkled poster in his hands. His eyes grew wide and his pupils flicked from side to side in discomfort.

"You all right?" asked Isaac.

Ivan thrust a hand into his hair, grabbing a handful of blond strands and desperately looking around.

"K-Kadri is missing…" he said, seemingly distraught.

"Is something wrong?"

"No… _Yes_… It's just…" Ivan looked up to Isaac with a distressed look. "K-kadri's my friend."

Ivan then looked away and bit his lower lip.

"He looked after me when everyone else thought I was a creepy kid," he said, staring at the picture and gripping the paper tightly hard enough to tear it apart. "He… he refused to believe I was a demon child even when… when the truth stared him in the face... He… he made me personalized gifts, showed me around town and he protected me when we were outside the palace."

Ivan lowered his face to the paper and scrunched his shoulders, his face completely distorted in grief as he started crying helplessly. Seeing the flowing tears on his face, Isaac felt a pang in his heart. As he gently petted Ivan's shoulder, the boy threw his arms around Isaac and cried into his chest.

"Don't you want to go back to Kalay?" asked Isaac, running a hand through Ivan's soft blond hair. "I mean… don't you want to find out what happened to your friend?"

Ivan gripped the back of Isaac's wool tunic tightly, shaking his head but whimpering:

"I don't know… I'm… so confused, I don't know..."

* * *

He didn't force Ivan to undress in front of him. And he didn't let the Imilians take Ivan away either. Garet had expected him to at least confirm Ivan's identity with hard evidence before deciding to bring him along, so now he was giving the Earth Adept the silent treatment after yet another dumb argument. Isaac said a couple of things he shouldn't have said, and Garet took a few low blows to Isaac as well. Needless to say, they were both waiting for apologies from the other and neither was willing to back down.

Isaac simply decided to wait for the fires to die. He'd had these fights with Garet when they were children and they usually lasted a little longer than a week. He was more worried about how to get along with the Imilians who seemed to view him with contempt. The priestess decided to start running everything as soon they left the village, ordering Isaac and Garet around as if they were her servants. She obviously didn't trust them despite agreeing to the alliance and refused to forgive Isaac for attacking Tret even though the forest king himself didn't blame him.

He didn't know if keeping Ivan at his side was another mistake, but he couldn't send the boy away with good conscience after everything they'd been through. He still hadn't figured out healing with his elemental affinity changed, but he was confident in his ability to protect his friends with his new power.

Adepts born after the sealing of Alchemy could only control one element. To be able to manipulate several like the Adepts of old was like a dream. Isaac wondered about the potentials in his newfound power. Could he surpass Felix the Wonderchild? He probably could, if he trained hard enough—he'd seen how powerful Ivan's lightning was and the boy was only a novice. If they honed their skills together, he was confident they could beat Felix and his cronies next time they clashed.

It took about six days to reach the Fuchin Monastery in the mountains. It probably would've gone faster if they didn't escort farmers delivering supplies to the temple, but the priestess sent one of her men ahead to the monastery to gather intelligence, so Isaac couldn't complain too much.

The Fuchin Monastery was dedicated to Saint Contigo's teachings and was built in the mountains overlooking the lands east of Xian. They had to climb several hundreds of winding steps to reach it. The priestess's scout had told the monks of their coming so food and beds were ready upon their arrival at late evening.

The monks of the monastery were very polite, maybe even overly so. Isaac didn't know how to respond to that level of courtesy at first. It was good to have Ivan by his side so that he could simply mimic his gestures. Copying Ivan was much easier than stealing the priestess's phrases, considering his own lack of status in society.

Over supper, the scout relayed information about a group of people who hurried into Mogall Woods instead of waiting for the river to freeze. Their names were Esther, Hubert, Philip and Jeremiah; merchants who were robbed and thrown into the river by bandits. Their description didn't fit Felix and the crooks.

Garet and the Imilians stayed with the monks to discuss Saint Contigo's old scrolls and the "bad omens" of world's end after supper. Isaac quickly got bored listening to the fatalists and left when he realized nothing of actual importance was being discussed.

The night was calm and the wind was still as Isaac went outside to get some fresh air. He looked over the river and the farmlands. The view from the monastery must be stunning in the other seasons when the landscape wasn't so bleak. He could see lights and rising smoke from the farming villages and he smiled pensively as he was reminded of his home.

"Isaac."

Hearing Ivan's voice, he turned back towards the gate of the monastery.

"Time for Psynergy training?" asked Isaac.

"I was wondering if we could do something else tonight," replied Ivan shyly. "It's not good if we destroy the property, right?"

Isaac laughed.

"So, what do you have in mind?" he asked.

"Well, we haven't met the master of the monastery yet."

"Do you know him?"

"No…" Ivan looked away and stroked the side of his arm. "I've never been here before. I mean. I've been to Xian with Master Hammet before, but we wouldn't stop by the temple with an entire caravan."

Isaac grinned and brushed Ivan's warm cheek with his knuckles, drawing a smile from the boy.

"You're curious about him," he said.

"A little," replied Ivan. "Don't you think it's strange that he can last so long without food?"

"Maybe he's just pretending," said Isaac with a mischievous smile. "But sure, if you're curious, I'd like to meet him too. Maybe he'll tell us his secret so we can save our supplies."

The master of the monastery was a man named Nyunpa, and he'd apparently locked himself up in the meditation chamber for over a week. Visitors were told not to disturb the master, so Isaac and Ivan had to sneak in to the building when no one was looking.

Arriving at the door, Ivan carefully knocked and announced they were visitors who wanted to meet the master. When no one responded, he knocked again and repeated his greeting and added a few phrases of flattery.

"Maybe no one's inside?" said Isaac, shrugging his shoulders. He leaned back against the door to realize that it wasn't even closed up properly and stumbled into the room, almost tripping into a sea of lit candles.

A white-haired old man dressed in orange sat cross-legged on the floor among the candles in meditation. His thick long eyebrows and the long beard at the bottom of his narrow face made him look rather grim, especially with the candlelight casting deep shadows in his face.

It didn't take long before Ivan had stepped into the room, lifted his hands in a polite gesture and bowed his head, saying it was an honour to meet the master of the Fuchin Monastery. Isaac then awkwardly apologized to the master for stumbling into the room, but the monk didn't reply to either of them.

"Um… hello?" said Ivan cautiously.

Again, the master did not answer and Isaac gripped the little Wind Adept's arm, saying that the old man might have already croaked. Ivan sighed in disappointment, but then cast Mindread.

Well, that was one way to check if he was dead without the need to tread through the sea of candles.

"Mmm… Who is that?" said the monk in his mind's voice. "Who speaks to my mind?"

Hah! So he wasn't dead. Maybe he was deaf or a mute.

The monk opened his eyes and steadily stood up from the floor. Nyunpa _could_ be a nice old man, but the flickering shadows and his bony frame did not help his appearance.

"Ah, young master…" said Nyunpa, his voice breathy and thin. Maybe he really _was_ starving himself after all? "Was that your voice I heard in my mind just now?"

Ivan flinched and stopped using Mindread while Isaac blinked and pointed to his own face with a questioning look. Ivan merely timidly apologized for disturbing the master in his meditation.

Nyunpa lowered his brow and pressed his lips together in a sly smile. An aura of energy shone around him as he cast Psynergy, and Isaac quickly yanked Ivan behind him, raising a warm hand ready for retaliation.

"I knew it," said the monk softly and then his Psynergy aura faded away.

Isaac hesitantly lowered his hand in confusion. _What?_ He raised an eyebrow. What did he know? And what did he do? He cast a wide look around the room and then continued staring at the monk.

"You follow them, do you not?" Nyunpa then cryptically asked.

"Who?" asked Isaac, bewildered.

Nyunpa flashed a meek smile again and blinked slowly. Isaac realized he was looking at _Ivan_.

"Y-yes," replied the boy, sounding way shyer than usual.

"I knew it," said the old man with a grin. "But, you must go through Mogall Forest, the endless woods."

Ivan nodded.

"The forest itself is a mystery, and its paths even more so… No ordinary man can pass from one side to the other."

"You know we're not ordinary men, right?" said Isaac, still unsure about this conversation, but the monk didn't seem to care about his opinion on the matter.

"Yes, Master Nyunpa," said Ivan, "the disciples told me you could pass through the forest." He then stepped out from under Isaac's cloak and lowered himself to his knees, "I-I'm sorry… I-I came here with intent."

"I knew it," said the monk with yet another faint smile. "And perhaps I could tell you what you want to know, young master." He turned around, facing the altar behind him in a silent moment of thought. When he turned back towards Ivan, he said:

"Hmm, if you can endure the trials in the waterfall grotto, I will tell you."

"What?" asked Isaac.

"Will you take the test of the waterfall grotto?"

"That depends on what test it is."

"The test of Fuchin Falls is a difficult one," replied Nyunpa with a smile.

"We're not going into some… waterfall grotto if you don't even explain what you want us to do."

"Then, I'm afraid I cannot tell you how to pass through Mogall Forest," replied the monk emotionlessly, sitting down on the floor and retaking his posture of meditation. "Give up and go back from whence you came."

Ivan shuddered with a small gasp and Isaac inhaled deeply, feeling something burst inside him as he held his breath.

"_Are you kidding me?_" Isaac shouted, loud enough for people outside of the chamber to hear him. "You're telling me—"

"Isaac!" Ivan quickly hushed him. The boy lifted clasped hands, imploring.

"Master Nyunpa…" said Ivan, casting Mindread as he spoke. "If you already know our mission and who we're pursuing… you should understand how important it is for us to get past the forest."

"You enjoy reading the minds of others, do you not?" murmured the monk, causing Ivan to flinch and quell his spell. "If you overdo it, you will soon learn to despise the ability."

Ivan fell silent, slowly bowing his head as he remained on his knees. The boy didn't respond even as Isaac squatted to the floor and placed comforting hands on his shoulders.

"You must survive the test of the grotto before you can pass through Mogall Forest," repeated Nyunpa, closing his eyes.

"And _you're_ not making any sense," hissed Isaac, pulling Ivan up from the floor as well.

"The disciples told us you're fasting in hopes of achieving enlightenment and saving the world," said Ivan. "We're _also_ trying to save the world, Master Nyunpa."

"Yes, we all want to save the world," Isaac bitterly filled in. "By helping us, you're helping yourself."

"Will you take the test, then?" asked the monk.

Isaac pursed his lips. Test, test, _test!_ Why did he need to _test_ them? Did he enjoy watching people die in the forest? Some saviour this loony was…

"Come, Ivan," said Isaac bitterly, "let's leave. I bet he's crazy."

"_Isaac_… What if we get lost in the woods?"

Isaac sighed and looked to the old monk.

"Well 'Master' Nyunpa, did Felix take your test?"

The monk remained silent.

"Guessed so," said Isaac. "We don't need your help either."

He then took Ivan's hand and dragged the boy out of the room, leading him back to the living quarters. Back in their room, Isaac kicked off his boots and seated on the bed. He told Ivan to forget about the monk, saying he was a sham. It was probably a test of "generosity" that basically boiled down to donating money to the temple. It was either that, or the monk was feeding them to a monster in the cave. Why else would he not tell them what the test was about? It just didn't make any sense.

"It does!" said Ivan. "He's testing our _bravery_."

"You mean our stupidity?" said Isaac with a snort. He unfastened the straps holding his armour together and began taking it off.

Ivan lowered his head and looked at his feet in shame. The Earth Adept sighed, putting his gear aside on the floor.

"Ivan," he then spoke. "What you need is a lot of rest so that you have the energy to travel tomorrow. Let _me_ worry about everything else, all right?"

He scooted aside on the bed and tapped the mattress with his hand. The boy averted his eyes for a moment but then nodded and obediently slipped out of his outer garments. Ivan nestled under the duvet, letting Isaac tuck him in and wish him good-night.

Isaac stayed up a little longer, folding Ivan's clothing up on the chair. He then counted what little money he had left after buying tools and supplies in Kolima. All the money he got for Ivan's silver dagger had been spent and once again it was time to worry about finances. He wondered if any of his own possessions could be pawned off for a little bit of money. He had a sword... well, his armour was damaged… and the rest of his belongings were needed for cooking and survival. He sighed, shaking his head. If only he had kept that fancy blade he found in the swamp…

Isaac disrobed and headed to bed, putting out the oil lamp on the nightstand and slipping under the duvet. Soon he was asleep with the little Wind Adept in his arms and dreaming of less depressing things.

He didn't know how long he slept, but it was still dark when he awoke and realized Ivan was missing. Isaac fumbled at the spot where the boy was supposed to be; it was cold.

Sitting up, he conjured an orb of lightning to illuminate the room and then rubbed sleep out of his eyes. He wouldn't be surprised if Ivan went to the latrine, but his covers shouldn't be this cold if he just left for a while. Looking to his pile of clothes on the chair, Isaac saw that all of Ivan's stuff was missing.

Fearing that something horrible could've happened to the boy, he stepped out of bed and grabbed his cloak, tunic and lantern. Isaac just finished putting on his tunic when the door suddenly creaked, causing him to jump in surprise.

Ivan was back. The boy happily waved to him, stepping back inside the room, and Isaac embraced the little Wind Adept with a sigh of relief. Ivan's clothes were sopping wet and Isaac frowned at the smell—did he just go swimming in a swamp? He cupped the back of Ivan's neck and inhaled the other scent coming from his hair. It smelt burnt. _Where_ had he been?

Ivan pulled away from the embrace and smiled shyly, biting his lip in eagerness. He gave the Earth Adept a small booklet he'd kept in his hand since his return, and Isaac accepted it albeit with confusion. There were Xianese glyphs on the cover and Isaac curiously flipped it open. He couldn't read it but the pictures told him this was a Psynergy manual. Telekinetic skills were traditionally illustrated with giant hands to show the basic gestures. This particular technique seemed to describe an ability of striking objects from afar.

He closed the booklet and then looked at the boy in surprise. Ivan's harebell eyes brimmed with tears, but his cheeks were puffed up from the smile on his mouth.

"Where did you get this?" asked Isaac softly, placing his free hand on Ivan's shoulder. "You didn't steal it, right?"

He could feel the boy shake with anticipation—or cold.

"N-oo, I-I passed Master Nyunpa's test," said Ivan. He snivelled and wiped away happy tears. "Master Nyunpa says this technique will help us find our way through the woods. The animals don't get lost in the forest. So if we scare them with this spell and then pursue they will eventually lead us to the other side!"

Isaac paled when he realized Ivan's wet clothing and burning smell came from whatever horrible test that insane monk had put him through. He drew Ivan into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"Why?" He whispered to the boy, feeling his heart hammer against Ivan's small body. "I told you to ignore him."

"Isaac, I'm fine," said Ivan, brushing his cheek against the side of Isaac's head and returning the hug. "He just sent me into the dark cave behind the waterfall to retrieve this pamphlet from a box." He delivered the explanation with a little laugh; sounding a little too happy for Isaac's comfort. "There were some traps, but I'm fine!"

"_Traps?_" Isaac pulled the boy away from the hug to look into his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me so I could come with you?"

"You were tired…"

"Me being tired is not an excuse for you to go into a dark scary cave all by yourself!" said Isaac, wracking with guilt. He'd raised his voice without even noticing it. "You could've... I would've… _ugh!_ Why didn't you _listen_ when I told you to ignore him?"

Ivan's smile vanished and he looked down at Isaac's shirt.

"I… I'm sorry…" The boy snivelled.

Isaac put his hands on the little Wind Adept's shoulders. He was worried and angry and regretful all at the same time.

"Don't you _ever_ do something like that again!" he said.

"I'm sorry," Ivan repeated, gripping the front of Isaac's tunic. "Please," he sobbed, "Isaac, please forgive me."

Isaac moved a hand to Ivan's cheek, cupping his jaw and rubbing away the tears with his thumb.

"Do you even know _why_ I'm _mad?_" asked Isaac softly.

Ivan bit his lip and nodded, his gaze still fixed on Isaac's chest.

"I-I just wanted to help…" Ivan sobbed. "I-I can't fight. I can't heal. I can't hunt or even cook. I… I just want to do _something_ for you, Isaac. I… I… I don't want to just be a burden to you..."

Recognizing those harsh words, Isaac closed his eyes in regret, shaking his head as the boy continued to sob.

"I… I… Y-you won't leave me behind… e-even if I'm a burden?"

He pulled Ivan close, placing his forehead against Ivan's. He couldn't possibly say it out aloud, so he encouraged the little Wind Adept to listen to his thoughts.

He told Ivan he would never leave him behind. He told Ivan he was important to him. That he loved Ivan with all of his heart. That Ivan was his light in the darkness; his only shred of happiness in this cold world. That he'd always dreamt of having an adoring little brother like Ivan, and that that was the reason he wanted to bring him to Vale.

* * *

They slept through the rest of the night. When Isaac woke up in the morning, Ivan was still fast asleep next to him with the thick duvet folded around his small body.

The Earth Adept smiled for himself and sat up on the edge of the bed. He yawned, folded up his blanket and put it back in his rucksack. After putting on his tunic and boots, he retrieved the bucket containing Ivan's dirty wet clothing and headed out to do the laundry.

Garet was leaving his room when Isaac exited to the corridor and the Fire Adept nodded to him in silent greeting.

"Good morning," replied Isaac.

Garet gave him an awkward smile. He tried to leave, but Isaac quickly strode over to him and showed the bucket containing all of the little Wind Adept's clothes.

"Ivan doesn't have any birthmarks."

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

I said I'd utilize the Djinn and I do deliver. Yep, Isaac "re-classed" in this chapter and this is just the beginning. The Djinn will be important actors in this story. Hope you look forward to that!

So why didn't Isaac re-class earlier? Well, that is because Isaac, being a wary person, only allowed Flint/Kite/Gust to follow him as "familiars" in the beginning. He didn't have a pact yet. Or in game terms: they were on "standby mode".

I had Isaac force Tret's evil side out of the "heart" instead of having them go into the tree. Since the evil side doesn't possess Tret anymore, it also loses Tret's plant based abilities. The reason it goes out of the tree at all is because it's driven by vengeance and… when Isaac and Ivan "critted it" so hard its motivation changed from "bring all of Kolima down with me" to "kill these bastards who did this to me". (Also, Mia and Garet were knocked down because they tried to use the Water of Hermes on Tret immediately.)

The Adepts won't be acquiring utility Psynergy from "magic items". They will learn those abilities in other ways. Some of the items that are important to the story like the Hover-Jade will still exist, but they won't be granting abilities.

We've seen that Garet and Mia tried to deal with Tret without Isaac, and we've seen Ivan going into the Fuchin Grotta alone. Right now, Isaac might feel left out or betrayed, but maybe one day everyone will learn to trust each other and no longer need to stick together 24/7? Anyway, the point is that the characters will have different experiences from the journey, and this part with Nyunpa and Fuchin goes to Ivan. (Ivan isn't a POV character yet, though.)


	23. – The Legacy of Prox

**W**hen Karst was young, Menardi told her the city used to sparkle with all the elements. Being masters of magic, the Ancients could thrive anywhere—even in the cold north. Moreover, the High Diviner in the council warned the city from incoming dangers so that disasters could be prevented.

But then came the mysterious decline. Adepts of Water, Earth and Wind became fewer for each generation. The last Earth Adepts died before Karst even was born. And now Rhen, the last Wind Adept of the North, was dead as well.

Khalor's family had always held a high status in society. He and his siblings were direct descendants of Saint Prox himself through their father Zephyros the Spellsinger. Karst didn't know him personally since he died when she was very young. Menardi, however, spoke very highly of the High Diviner, even though most of his sons and daughters resented him in one way or another.

Khalor's family was far from perfect, that much Karst understood. With high status and respect came responsibility. The family was responsible of producing a diviner for every generation. Zephyros the Spellsinger had three wives and he fathered eight children before he managed to produce a proper heir. Rhen, despite being a skilled duellist and spellsinger turned out to be a very poor diviner. The family was broken up after Zephyros vanished along with Karst's parents in the first mission to Vale.

Rhen hated himself, or so Khalor said. Saturos said it felt horrible to know you were bred for a specific purpose. Darius said Rhen never felt his life belonged to himself. Kassandra said her brother was constantly troubled by his prophetic dreams and nightmares. Mara said Rhen didn't see any future for the people.

Maybe that was why he signed up on the quest.

Maybe he even saw the end of the world like his father did.

* * *

The day was cold… _bleak_. Each morning was colder and bleaker than the one that came before.

It's been a week since the temple was purged and the council had forbidden anyone from venturing into the north where the renegades had built their bases.

Standing vigil at the northern wall, Karst could see Khalor on the townsquare crossing out names on a list while Agatio handed out food supplies to the people waiting in a line. The fishermen and hunters hadn't returned yet: Karst had started wondering whether they had left for good. The city's food reserves wouldn't last until spring, and even though Khalor and Agatio lied to keep the peace, hopelessness was a given.

Khalor was elevated to the position of High Priest and Agatio become the Captain of the Guardians, simply due to lack of qualified competitors. Their titles used to mean something, but now the Temple of Prox had almost lost all respect. Citizens were cowering in fear since even the Guardians couldn't protect them from the zealots. Most people believed the council's support of Menardi's cause had doomed them, saying this was the wrath of Saint Prox himself…

Karst wished she knew what the zealots were planning. They hadn't attacked the city ever since purging the temple, which was indeed a strange thing if their intent was to overthrow the council and take over the city.

A few days after the purge, Ralf woke up with the ability to walk again. Karst was the first to find him walking back and forth in the living room of Khalor's family home. He asked her to help him get an audience with the chief and the council, saying he needed a boat. He had to find his son and bring the news to him about what happened in the north, he said. He had to warn Felix and Menardi of what dangers that awaited them in here, he explained.

The council naturally rejected his request, believing he was a spy for the zealots. When Khalor spoke for his innocence, Ralf was put in house arrest. Now, he was stuck in Khalor's family home with the spellsingers keeping him company one at a time.

Karst saw him wandering aimlessly around the house whenever she was there to take singing lessons from Galen. She never thought her old past-times of singing in the choir during the festivals would prove useful one day. The elementals may strengthen an Adept, but they could be manipulated with song and music, which in turn would disorient the Adept who was their host.

Ralf made no pact with spirits; despite what the council believed. He somehow made the recovery through sheer willpower, or maybe he did possess an inner strength he never knew he had. Everyone used to believe he was craven since he let his wife push him around. But when he offered himself to save the rest of the people of Prox, Karst came to respect him on a new level.

That day, snow whirled in the wind, falling thick and cold. She stood on top of the northern wall, watching over the reconstruction. Darius was at her side with his lyre on his lap and his crossbow leaning against the side of his stool. He played a duet with his younger sister Kassandra in the cold while Karst suddenly sighted a cloud of white smoke approaching the wall in the horizon.

She called them to attention and threw a spell to the sky, alerting the Guardians with a blast of fireworks. The Guardians rebuilding the walls grabbed their spears while the spellsingers loaded their crossbows. Turning back, Karst could see the people on the square reluctantly disperse on Khalor's urgings while Agatio and the rest of the Guardians hurried to the northern wall.

Looking back towards the tundra, a sledge drawn by elks soon began appearing from the smoking trail of snow and ice. A figure with apricot hair was holding the reins. Once, Thora was a respected Guardian of Mars, and Menardi's friend. Now, she was just another renegade.

Karst took aim at her with the crossbow with steady hands, but her heart beat loudly in her chest. She prayed that she wouldn't have to shoot Thora, but if they wanted to destroy the city, she'd have to. Thora didn't seem to have come armed, but Karst worried what hid under the pile of furs and fabrics on her sledge.

The renegade stopped in front of the gates. She didn't seem bothered by the Guardian's glowing weapons or the Spellsingers crossbows, merely tossing a thin orange braid behind her shoulders as she declared with a mellow tone:

"Why such animosity? I didn't come looking for a fight."

Karst noticed the marks on Thora's face were different from what she usually wore. Her bright red cloak had been replaced with a sky blue one too.

A surge of light flashed as Agatio leapt to the top of the wall, landing behind the battlement on his feet with a burst of flames.

"_Hah_, look at that!" said Thora with a laugh. "_Agatio_ with the Captain's regalia? Now I've seen everything…"

Karst gripped her crossbow tightly.

"What do you want?" said Agatio with his awfully dull voice. If Karst hadn't heard him herself, she wouldn't ever believe he could sing at all.

"Galen, Darius, Kassandra, Mara, _and_ Khalor," said Thora. "Has everyone in the family arrived? Does the council truly rely on a group of bards to protect the city?"

"Cut the crap," said Darius. "What do you want, traitor?"

Thora stood up and took a bow.

"I bring a gift and a message from High Commander Kyle," she replied.

"_High Commander?_"

Karst lowered her crossbow slowly, leaving her post and running over to Agatio's side and pushing her captain out of the way. She climbed on top of the battlement, not caring that she was deliberately exposing herself for enemy fire.

High Commander. She called that murderer her _commander_.

"Where's your pride, Thora?" Karst shouted at the renegade. "You're taking orders from that Valian who killed _dozens_ of your own people?"

Thora stepped off the sledge, causing Galen to let loose a warning shot at her cargo.

_"Karst!_" said Agatio, but he ran over to Galen and placed his big hand on the spellsinger's crossbow, lowering it. "Galen! Let her speak!"

Thora smiled and gave the spellsingers on the wall a slight nod with her head.

"The High Commander wants to offer you all a chance to surrender," she said, smiling. She then untied the rope holding down the fabric covering the goods on her sledge, revealing filled sacks and pelts.

"A gift from the High Commander," said Thora. "There will be more to come, should you agree to our terms."

Karst said nothing and stared at the zealot and the sledge. Those supplies were probably gathered from the homesteads they pillaged in the north. Some of that food probably came from Aife and Gavin's family.

"What do you say, Captain?" asked Thora. "Will you agree to surrender?"

Agatio gave her no reply as these decisions were not his to make alone. Thora knew that too—she was trying to shake his confidence and she was failing. Being a dumb brute had its advantages sometimes.

The captain then suddenly grabbed Karst's foot. He gestured to her, telling her to get down from the battlement. She simply stared back at him defiantly. He ordered her to run back to the city and report to the council, but she kicked his hand away and looked to Thora once more.

"We're not stupid!" She shouted at the renegade, pointing down at her. "If you want the city, you'll have to go through us! The Guardians of Mars still stand!"

"We're not here to take the city or replace your leaders," said Thora. "We only want you to fly our banner and hand over Ralf and Saint Prox's sword."

"Never," said Karst, clutching the crossbow so tightly that her nails scraped against the wooden handle. "_Never_."

"The High Commander gives you until the next dawn to decide. We will deliver lumber for you to build longships so that you may leave the north."

"Lumber? _How?_ There're almost no trees—"

"We have our ways, Karst. You only need to do as we say."

"We're not leaving our homes! And you're not getting Ralf and the Sol Blade either!"

"You might be young and healthy fighters, but think of the elderly and the children." Thora almost sounded sad. "Fly our banners and hand over Ralf and the sword of Prox. We will be back tomorrow—all of us. Don't squander the High Commander's mercy."

Karst glared at the pile of blue fabric on the sledge, holding her breath in fury. Kyle might not desire to replace the council, but how different was this from any other takeover? How different were the zealots from the human warlords who nearly burnt their entire civilization to the ground? How different were they from those sorcerers the Saints tried protecting the world from?

She took an oath to protect the world. They all swore the same oath. And yet, Thora and the renegades slaughtered the Guardians and now threatened the city with another bloodbath unless they gave in to her commander's demands.

"We won't give you anything!" said Karst. "Tell your evil commander he'll have to kill all of us if he wants the city!"

"You're protecting no one. The reserves of food won't last till spring. Your only chance for survival is to cooperate."

"We wouldn't have this problem if you and your bandits hadn't _pillaged_ and burnt everything in the north!" yelled Karst, her eyes filled with tears and her entire being shaking with rage.

"If you agree to our terms, no harm will come to anyone within the city." Thora paused and then looked to the spellsingers on the wall. "Even the rest of you traitors will be spared. We don't want unnecessary blood—"

"_Traitors_? Who are you calling a traitor? You slaughtered everyone in the temple and more!" said Galen. "How do you expect us to trust you after that?"

"You'll let us go?" Karst filled in. "You just want us to let you in so you can kill the rest of us without a fight!"

"Galen! _Karst!_" said Agatio. "Don't—"

"You think a few chanters can stop us?" asked Thora. "You don't know the extent of our powers."

"So that's what it is all about?_ Power? _How different are you from the conquerors who—"

"_Karst! _That is _enough!_" Agatio grabbed Karst's foot and pulled her down from the battlement. He cursed in the Ancient tongue as he caught her in his arms and then firmly put her down at the balustrade behind the wall.

"Bring Chief Puelle here," he told Karst again, staring her down as he rigidly pointed towards the chief's residence. "_Now, go!_"

Karst held her breath and stared back at him for a moment.

"This is an order," he then said with authority. "Bring here Chief Puelle!"

Karst clenched her teeth. She spat on the ground and stepped down from the wall, sprinting to the chieftain's residence at the centre of town.

Once arriving at Puelle's house, she pushed past his wife and stormed into his living room, stating that the renegades were back and threatening the city. To Karst surprise, the old chief was speaking to Ralf at the moment and passing some scrolls to him. The Valian was dressed heavily in many layers of cloth and furs as if he was heading on a long journey. At the sound of Karst's words, the scrolls slid off Ralf's hands and tumbled to the floor.

"Are Kyle and Hannah back?" asked the Valian in surprise.

"No…" said Puelle, his eyes growing tall as the scrolls levitated up to his hands. He shoved the rolls into Ralf's arms and then grabbed the Valian, pulling him back to the armchair and then telling him to stay in his home.

"Karst, lead the way," he then told the Guardian, but Ralf stubbornly wanted to tag along.

"No, let me talk to them!" said Ralf.

"No, keep the bigger picture in mind," said Puelle, raising his voice. He was trying to stay calm, but Karst heard a quiver in his voice. "Y-you can't risk your life for something like this when you're our last hope!"

"Last hope?" said Karst. "_Puelle_, what are you planning?"

Even Ralf seemed uncomfortable with that declaration. Karst seized one of his scrolls and opened it, finding a new chart of the Frozen Sea. When the chieftain's son came tripping down the stairs just as heavily dressed as Ralf, Karst realized what this was all about.

"You're sending him away?" she asked with a breathy voice.

Puelle sighed and covered his face with his hands.

"No time for explanations," said Puelle. "Styrkarr, get Ralf to the docks."

"The zealots want him!" said Karst. "They might burn the city down to find him!"

"What?" Ralf gasped. He then grasped Karst hand. "Then… lead the way!"

Karst nodded and they hurried back to the ruins of the northern wall with Puelle protesting behind them. She hoped that a battle wouldn't await her upon return.

Luckily, Agatio stood at the gate with the rest of the spellsingers. They had taken the sledge into the city and were thoroughly inspecting the goods.

"Wh-where's Kyle and Hannah?" asked Ralf when he finally reached the gatekeepers. "Where are the renegades?"

"Thora has left," replied Agatio. He then picked up one of the blue sheets of fabric and rolled it out to reveal a white pattern with a sun and stars.

"That's… the Valian Temple's banner," said Ralf, lifting a hand to his mouth.

"The renegades will let the city starve unless we raise their banners and hand over Ralf and the Sol Blade, those bastards," said Darius.

"Then just hand me over!" replied Ralf almost immediately, gesturing to himself and stepping forth.

"_No!_" Puelle grabbed the Valian's thick fur coat in frustration and yanked him back towards his side. "You need to find your son and the people I sent out!" he told Ralf. "You need to warn—"

"Wait a minute!" said Karst, raising her hands up in the air. She then directed her gaze at the chief. "What do you mean _you_ sent people out?"

Puelle face suddenly became stiff and he averted his eyes.

"I need to summon the council," he said with a cough.

"You're not going anywhere without explaining!" Karst grabbed the back of his coat, preventing him from leaving.

"Karst," said Agatio firmly, grabbing her wrist. "That is not how you talk to your chieftain."

"He's not above any of us now when we're all threatened by a bunch of lunatics with too much power for their own good!" Karst swiped her hand and pulled free from her captain's grasp. He then gestured towards the chieftain. "Why am I the only person questioning his leadership when he did _nothing_ and allowed all of this to happen?"

"He has done more than you imagine."

"He _has?_ _What_ has he done? Ever since Menardi left and the spellsingers were imprisoned he's either been sitting idly in his home or gone hunting in the forests!"

A silent moment passed and Karst stared at the spellsingers with question.

"It's time you tell her the truth," said Kassandra finally, looking to the chief.

"_What_ truth?" asked Karst.

"Puelle was one of us from the beginning," said Galen. "Without him, Menardi wouldn't even have gotten her hands on the Ancient ship. He's been supporting this cause ever since our parents presented the idea to him."

"What—?"

Puelle sighed.

"Everyone called Zephyros mad when he shouted about the end of the world," said the chief. "Everyone thought his prophetic dreams had finally driven him insane. But your parents and I, we investigated the Mars Lighthouse and found out the existence of Sol Sanctum and the key to saving the continent." He shook his head, pausing to take a deep breath. "When Orion and Medea wanted to seek Sol Sanctum six years ago, I approved," he continued. "When Menardi and Rhen three years later sought to complete what their parents had started, I gave them my support as well. And three years after that, I conspired with them for a final desperate attempt of stealing the Elemental Stars."

Karst dropped her jaw as the knowledge hit her.

"He called a meeting to divert the priests' attention the night we stole the Black Orb from the temple's vault," said Galen. "He ordered the ship to be tested so that it would be ready once we had the orb."

Her eyes twitched in horror and he raised a hand to stifle a gasp.

This changed everything.

"You could've just approved Menardi's leave again!" said Karst. She shoved Puelle, sending him stumbling back. Tears of anger clouded her vision as the spellsingers grabbed her arms and restrained her.

"You're the damn chief!" She cried, and her gaze still lingered on the chief. "All you had to do was approve Menardi's leave _again_! But instead you had Menardi and Rhen turned into traitors! Rhen is dead because of you! Do you even know how many people are dead because of you? How many were killed in a battle at the shipyard just because you wanted to _save face?_"

"I…" began Puelle, but then he sighed and abandoned his explanation.

"What more are you hiding?" yelled Karst. "What more secrets are you keeping from me and the rest of the city?"

* * *

A forest of tall pines had grown overnight in the northern tundra, concealing the area around the Mars Lighthouse. Karst wondered whether Kyle's powers had any bounds; few things used to be able to grow in the permafrost.

She stood on the northern wall when Agatio escorted Ralf out of the city through the gate. Blue banners billowed in the wind as the sun rose over the bright horizon. Karst felt a stone weight heavy on her heart. She didn't know what was worse—being forced to submit to the will of bandits or abandoning everything that her family had fought for.

She watched Khalor hand over a large sword completely wrapped in a tapestry to Ralf. Khalor didn't speak—he wasn't even wearing his priest's robes anymore and instead dressed in an ugly brown tunic that looked more like a sack than real clothing. He no longer wore any marks of his face, his hazel eyes were weary, and his skin was paler than it should be.

The sword of Prox was about the height of Ralf himself. The Sol Blade was Saint Prox's personal belonging, a relic and an heirloom that had been in Khalor's family's keeping since times immemorial.

Karst looked at the pile of colourful banners that had been taken down and placed in a crate for safe transport. They came in all different colours with crests of dragons, birds, fish and men holding torches and olive branches. They had flown above the city since the surviving houses of the Ancients and the native tribes of the northlands put their differences aside and banded together under Commander Mars's leadership.

As Ralf slowly began heading towards the woods, Khalor suddenly opened his mouth.

He sang. A slow, old anthem in the Ancient language, written in praise of their ancestors and their resilience, sacrifice and valour. The spellsingers joined him in song and Karst felt tears rising in her eyes as she began mouthing the words in silence.

Their ancestors took an oath to live and serve Weyard and her people. Should evil once again threaten the world, they would take up arms and fight in Weyard's defence. But now, most of their descendants had banded together to preserve a lost cause.

And the hero—the hero destined to save the world. She must fight and defeat Kyle and the renegades if she wanted to light the beacon of Mars.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

And this marks the end of Karst's story for now. She'll be back at a later point (of course) but she won't show up for long time.

We'll be back to Felix and Isaac's party members in the next chapter where they finally arrive in Xian and we'll soon begin seeing things from Mia's perspective too.


	24. – The Djinn's Favour

**A**fter dragging their feet out of the cursed woods, Alex and Felix's group spent another two days of trekking through the snowy plains of Xian before finally reaching the city. The Adepts despaired at sight of the long line outside the gate, but to their surprise, Solomon was waiting outside. And he guided them into town after bribing the guards.

It was a test.

Kraden had orchestrated the entire separation incident, and the "ferrymen" were both hired blades. Once reunited with the others in the Peach Garden School, Jenna questioned her teacher's intents for needlessly endangering her family. Kraden replied, albeit too cheerily, with a smile:

"Now Jenna, I did send Jeremy to protect you."

"Oh, so you sent your servant to protect us?" said Jenna. "We'd all be dead if _Sir Blind-and-Stupid_ here didn't show up with a raft!"

"Jeremy may look young and humble," said Kraden with confidence, "but one does not simply charm their way into the king's service. Everyone who spends the king's gold possess certain amount of skill and knowledge."

"Does the rule apply to us as well, then?" Alex asked absently with a huff, not meeting Kraden's eyes.

The old man didn't answer his question and instead told Solomon to prepare baths for the wanderers, but Alex already had doubts about the alliance.

After cleaning themselves and changing their clothes, Kraden's attendants invited them out to eat in the main hall. The table was made for a feast that evening—there was fish, meat, vegetables, rice, wine and tea. Yet, the only person with good appetite was Saturos who couldn't care less that he behaved like a caveman at the table.

Over food, Kraden complimented Alex and the Valian siblings' ability to adapt, declaring that he hadn't anticipated a cursed forest in their path. He offered Saturos renewed membership in the group as well, but the northlander briskly declined.

"I don't want a new boss," he said, waving his sticky hand while still holding chicken-bones between his fingers. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

Felix and Jenna spent the entire evening in silence, forcing Alex to answer Kraden's mundane questions during supper. Saturos snidely made a joke at Felix's expense, and the Earth Adept left the table with Jenna following him closely behind. When Alex and Menardi later brought food in to their room, the siblings seemed to be at odds with each others; Felix was on the bed, sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest while Jenna sat in a similar position on a chair near the open window. The moment Alex put his tray down on the table, Felix opened his mouth:

"Did you know about this?" he asked. "Menardi, did you _agree_ to this… this test?"

The northlander neither confirmed nor denied her knowledge of Kraden's ploy. She simply set her tray down on the table and left without a word. Alex couldn't tell what her silence meant, but one thing he understood: Menardi was no longer in control.

At night, Jenna barged into Alex's room with her pillow and blanket and asked if she could sleep here. He would normally joke about her not being afraid of being taken advantage of, but decided against it once he realized Jenna and Felix had a fight. He told her she could have the bed, saying he had a lot of reading to do anyway. As she made herself comfortable on the bed, he flipped through the pages of a random book he took from the shelf in his room. But his mind was elsewhere.

The worst part wasn't that they'd joined an alliance with the Tolbian King; it was that they essentially didn't even have a choice in the matter. Babi controlled half of the North Gondowan continent—the City of Lalivero and Venus Lighthouse included.

Maybe Menardi _did_ have the power to wipe out an entire army—Alex did not know—but it wasn't for her Alex was worried. He feared for Jenna who didn't even seem to know how dark the world outside Vale truly was. And he feared for Felix, who possessed immense power but was simply too timid to hone it. Saints, Felix thought he had Alex's gift—the Healing Hands—but it only appeared that way because he wielded rejuvenating Earth. No, Felix's gift was something else, something… much grander and much more powerful; Alex realized it already when Felix laid his hands on him outside the caves of Loho. Felix's Psynergy was overwhelming and it surged from his palm as if it had no limit. It was almost frightening; even as Felix healed him, his spell felt deadly. Had Felix not taken the temple vows at early age, he would've made a terrifying warmage.

Felix was the kind of person who wouldn't hurt a fly, but Alex feared that Kraden knew more about his friend than he let on. It wouldn't be a stretch to think that Kraden was dragging Jenna and Alex himself along to Tolbi simply so that he'd be able to strong-arm Felix into doing something he surely wouldn't do.

Babi rose to his position not through respect but through guile and manipulation. He used to be a military commander, but was named king after his predecessor was assassinated in a coup that he at least took part in. His conquests in North Gondowan spoke more of his character than anything else. He'd starved entire villages to the brink of death for rebelling against his rule. And he'd strong-armed the citizens of Lalivero into submission by taking their children hostage. There were reasons why people said Hammet ruled his city with trust while Babi ruled his realm with force.

Alex fell asleep in his chair that night, resting his head on his folded arms on the table, but he awoke when Jenna draped a warm blanket over his shoulders in the middle of the night. When he looked to her face, he realized she'd been crying.

She apologized, saying Alex was better off without her and that she understood that he was angry with her. She said it was her fault they almost got killed in the cursed forest. She told him she was useless for not being able to control her Psynergy and that she couldn't protect Felix. Then, she told him that Felix was right; that she was a terrible judge of character, thinking Kraden actually cared about her when it turned out she didn't know him at all. And after that, she asked—among other things—why all horrible people in the world weren't dead already, why good people had to suffer, and why fate was so cruel to her family even though they'd never committed any evils…

Alex smiled mildly as he always did, and he simply took her hand and held it in silence. Yet, Jenna seemed to have heard words of comfort and she embraced him.

"I'm scared," she told him, "I'm scared I'll wake up one morning and you and Felix will be gone again. I don't want to be alone again, I don't want to."

"Jenna," he said softly. "You're braver than you think you are."

"I'm _not_," she replied bitterly. "I'm scared. I've been scared ever since you fell into that river."

"I don't die that easily," he said with a small laugh. He then pulled her away from his shoulder and brushed away the tears on her cheeks with the bottom of his sleeve. "I'm an amazing healer, remember? And your brother isn't much worse."

"H-he would've been dead now if it weren't for you…"

"Don't give me _all_ the credit, dear-heart. _You_ fished him up from the river and swam him back to shore. You're braver than you think you are. You're stronger than you think you are, Jenna. Don't let Felix or anyone else make you feel small over something none of us had any control over. Felix needs you. He needs both of us, understand?"

* * *

He washed his face and changed into dark blue robes in the morning. Alex had worn Xianese clothing before, albeit of much lower quality and he definitely didn't wear silk last time he visited this city. His hair had been properly dyed dark brown to match Felix's, since he now was masquerading as the middle sibling in Felix's fake family.

Kraden had money, so naturally they could afford all kinds of expenses. The old man had connections too, being close friends with Master Zheng, and that's how they could stay in a prestigious school even though they weren't scholars or students.

Alex looked at the wooden screen with a blossoming red plum branch and the stanza, biting his lower lip as he ran his fingertips over the painted flowers and butterflies.

The Peach Garden School was a splendid courtyard house and a place dedicated for knowledge and learning. He'd been here during his pilgrimage and spoken to Master Zheng. Back then, Alex came for knowledge of ancient magic, but he gained none and was instead given the advice to visit the Great Library of Lalivero instead...

He sighed, finishing tying the sash around his waist and then stepped out behind the screen. Exiting his room, he headed out to the main hall. He heard Saturos and Menardi's agitated voices on the way, and once he stood at the entrance to the main hall he found the two northlanders arguing in Felix's presence.

"Are you telling me you're not going to do anything about it, _Captain_?" asked Saturos dryly. He stood fully dressed in his rags and with his old bag slung over his shoulder.

"Whatever I do about it doesn't concern you," said Menardi, standing straight with her arms folded in front of her chest. "You've received compensation for your troubles."

"Heh, true," replied Saturos with a ragged laugh. "I washed my hands off this quest long ago. And I wish I'd _stayed out_ of it."

"Saturos—!" began Felix.

"Save your breath, kid," said the northlander. "My oath expired long ago with _Rhen_. I won't stick around for your amusement."

"But Satur—_Master_—_!_"

"_DON'T CALL ME THAT!"_ Saturos suddenly burst out in uncharacteristic distress; even dropping his bag to the floor. His face was distorted in pain, as if Felix had stabbed him with a knife rather than called him his teacher. The wanderer exhaled deeply and then covered the lower part of his face, turning his head away in shame.

"I don't take students," he then bitterly said, speaking in a low voice. He clenched and unclenched his hands. "I'm not allowed to teach. So don't tell anyone I ever taught you anything."

Saturos's left hand twitched and glowed with Psynergy, but he seemed to fail with his spell. His face convulsed and he tried again, but once again he didn't get the desired result. Alex looked to the floor where the bag still lay at the northlander's feet. It glowed yellow, and finally levitated to Saturos's hand. The wanderer let out a relieved sigh, unaware of Felix's assistance. He slung his bag over his right shoulder and then turned away to leave. His steps were sure, but he still tripped and almost fell over the threshold. Thankfully, Jenna happened to pass by and stubbornly helped him out despite his protests.

"Oh, look at that," said Menardi, causing Alex to lift his gaze and look to her. "Your favourite playmate has finally decided to get out of bed, Felix."

Felix turned away with a sigh while Menardi walked away and returned to "oversee" Kraden's research in the teacher's study. The Earth Adept didn't talk back to Menardi out of respect, but his expression was different from his usual sad face.

Alex looked past Felix and out towards the courtyard. The snow fell lightly and it didn't seem too cold. But if his theory was correct, the weather would be unbearable once they lit Venus Lighthouse. This was a temporary side-effect of gradually restoring the source of magic.

One did not need to be an Alchemy researcher to see that the world was changing. Everywhere, monsters and demons appeared. Everywhere, people on the countryside fled to the cities for safety. And if Kraden's words were to be trusted, the surge of magic from the Mercury beacon and the eruption of Mount Aleph had granted ordinary beasts power akin to those of Adepts.

It made sense, Alex considered. After all, the Divine Lights once imbued the world with magic. He'd sensed and seen it himself too; there was no mistake in the surge of energy he experienced when he traversed the base of the tower of Mercury; no mistake in the transformation of the Mogall Prairie into thick woods.

In another world, he might not need to watch all the needless suffering. In another world, the beacons might have been lit simultaneously according to Saint Imil's final wish. But it was how it was. Saint Imil's descendants buried his final words within Mercury Lighthouse and decided that the Source of Magic needed to stay sealed away. And that led to where they were now.

Alex wandered out to the courtyard, leaving footprints on the new fallen snow.

"Alex!"

Hearing Jenna's voice, Alex donned his carefree smile. He might be younger than Felix by a month, give or take a few days, but Felix looked to him for strength and so did Jenna. Growing up as the high priest's successor meant that Alex learnt early how irrelevant his own happiness was with the bigger picture in mind.

Jenna approached him, twirling in three layers of pink and pale violet silk.

"_Ta-dah!_ How do I look?" Jenna almost sang playfully as she danced back to the courtyard.

"Stunning," Alex replied with a cheerful laugh. He was glad that she no longer was wallowing in despair.

Jenna's eyes narrowed for a second but then she lifted the left corner of her mouth and tilted her head back in pride, puffing up her chest like a bird. Alex shrugged and lifted his hands above his shoulders, keeping his smile. When her grin fell abruptly and turned into a frown, he noticed Jenna was staring past his shoulder.

Turning around, he found Felix leaning against the doorframe with a sour expression. Felix had been like this since yesterday. Kraden sent Alex and the Valian siblings off with a bag of gold coins and told them to "have fun in town", so Alex dragged Felix and his sister all around Xian; showing them around; spending all that money. Jenna let go of her worries and finally smiled and laughed again, but Felix couldn't stop complaining about Alex and Jenna treating the quest like a vacation.

Looking back to Jenna, Alex jerked his head towards the Earth Adept. Jenna rolled her eyes. He gave her a light push and pointed at her brother again. She sighed in annoyance, but then pulled her lips up and pranced back to the main building where Felix stood with his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

"_Feeeee-lix,_" said Jenna. She grabbed his wrist and lifted it to see the wide sleeves of his mint green robes fall from his arm. Felix jerked his arm back and gave her a sharp stare but Jenna grinned.

"See, Felix?" she said. "I told you the robes would look good on you! You've got to admit it was a good purchase now, right?"

"We're supposed to be in disguise," said Felix, turning his head away with a sigh.

"This _is_ the perfect disguise!"

"How? Yesterday, everyone on the streets was staring at me as if I'm from the moon."

"We're travelling with _Kraden!_ You can't walk around in rags anymore, don't you get it?" Felix's sister then suddenly paused and a broad, mischievous grin spread across her face. Changing her tone, Jenna nudged Felix's on the side. "Were those _women_?" she then asked. "Maybe people are staring at you because you have a pretty face, brother-dear."

Felix bounced away, blushing furiously and failing to produce a counter-argument. Jenna looked to Alex with a triumphant grin while pointing at her embarrassed brother. Alex couldn't help but return the smile.

"Get _serious!_" said Felix, baring his teeth as he raised his hands in a gesture of disbelief. "Someone will sooner or later recognize my face and then we'll be in trouble."

"Bounty hunters will look for a dirty beggar with a ragged cape, not a merchant wearing the most expensive robes sold in Xian!" said Jenna, no longer smiling. "Also, I doubt _anyone_ in this part of the world cares about thieves from Vale! Dragging you all the way to Vale probably isn't even worth the reward! Right, Alex?"

Alex smiled faintly and shrugged his shoulders, but he kept his silence.

"Why do I think your excessive spending is sort of a personal vendetta against your old teacher?" said Felix, sighing and placing a hand on his forehead.

"We _earned_ this," Jenna shot back. "Do you miss scavenging for berries and mushrooms or puking your guts out from eating half-prepared fish? Do you miss the days hiding your face behind a mask and be unable to lift your head? _No?_ I thought so!"

Felix looked away with a frown and folded his arms over his chest again. After a minute of silence, Jenna turned away from her brother, grasping the Water Adept's wrist as she stomped across the courtyard.

"Alex, let's go out," she said. "Felix wants to stay in this stupid cage today."

Alex planted his heels on the ground and looked to Felix's forlorn face for a moment, briefly catching his friend's beaten look.

"Get back before dinner," said Felix, rolling his eyes. "I don't want to go out looking for you."

Jenna dragged Alex out of the estate but once they were out of the gate, her indignant expression fell and she couldn't come up with any ideas when Alex asked her where she wanted to go. She leaned against the wall with a dour expression while Alex directed his gaze towards the cloudy sky. It'd take a while for the day to end and Jenna would probably sit here until evening if he didn't came up with a plan.

"Didn't you say there was someone you needed to find, yesterday?" he then asked with a smile. "We're leaving Xian soon, so you might want to take care of that now."

"Oh yes!" said Jenna and her face immediately lit up as she slipped a hand under her crossed collars in search for something. "I need to find Ming's girl!" she then said, withdrawing a silk handkerchief with a butterfly motif. "He told me to give her this."

Alex looked at the item and raised an eyebrow.

"Did he mention her name and residence?" he then asked, not sure whether he'd bitten off more than he could chew.

"Uhm…" Jenna, looking left to right. "He called her Ashy!"

"That doesn't even sound remotely Xianese, Jenna."

"Er, he said she's the daughter of the grandmaster of kung-fu!"

"There are quite a few grandmasters of kung-fu in Xian."

"Then we better start looking!"

"But let's go back inside and fetch our cloaks first? It's quiet cold."

* * *

After asking around, they eventually found some clues of who this "Ashy" might be.

While none of the martial arts grandmasters had a daughter with that name, Grandmaster Fei was the only one who had a daughter at all. The girl's name was Fei Zilian, although some of her childhood friends called her "A'zi".

The father, Fei Wuji, specialized in hand to hand combat although he was said to be skilled with a blade as well. His dojo was located in the northern district, and the building was— unsurprisingly—a courtyard house like the Peach Garden School.

Standing in front of the gate, Alex looked up at the wooden sign above the doors briefly. The glyphs were written in gold paint and the name was something archaic Alex couldn't translate into something meaningful. The doors were open, so Alex and Jenna walked through the entrance and entered the courtyard where the students sparred without weapons. Some of them stopped momentarily and stared at the visitors but quickly went back to training when one of the senior students reprimanded them.

The older student looked to the guests, turning away from his sparring partner and approaching Alex and Jenna. He seemed to be in his early twenties and was dark-haired and dark-eyed like most other townsfolk. He dressed like a scholar, although Alex could tell from his strong build that he probably could hold his own in a fight.

"I am Lin Zhongqi, Master Fei's eldest disciple," he said, lifting a closed hand and pressing it to the palm of his other hand. "Are you here to learn kung-fu? My master is away on a meeting, but you're welcome in to the main hall for tea if you don't mind the wait."

"Hubert Swanson," said Alex, bowing his head slightly and repeating Zhongqi hand gesture. "We're not here to learn kung-fu." He then gestured towards Jenna. "My sister Esther has business with the master's daughter. Would you be so kind and ask her to meet?"

Jenna gave the stranger a shaky smile and copied Alex's gesture. The disciple nodded silently and repeated the hand gesture, saying "Sister Lian" was away but that they were welcome to come in for tea if they wished.

Alex looked to Jenna, silently asking for her opinion, to which Jenna answered:

"Sure, why not?"

Zhongqi nodded and showed them into the main hall, asking one of the housekeepers to prepare tea in the meanwhile. As they made their way into the main hall, Zhongqi explained the smaller villages of the countryside had been ravaged by monsters and the mayor has called in the council to discuss the problem.

"The villagers have requested aid from the city," said the disciple. "It's quite a dilemma since the city can only hold so many people..."

Alex bit his lip, his mind wandering back to Imil as he wondered how _she_ dealt with the crisis up north.

Zhongqi ordered one of the housekeepers to prepare tea and then invited the guests to sit at the table in the main hall. The room held extravagant furniture in dark wood and paintings and calligraphy scrolls lined the white walls, and a number of porcelain vases and figurines were displayed on shelves and small tables. Master Fei might be a martial artist first, but Alex wouldn't be surprised if his family owned a business on the side.

Zhongqi asked what kind of business Alex had with the master's daughter, saying that he didn't know Sister Lian had foreign friends.

"Ah, we're friends of her fiancé," Alex replied. "He asked us to deliver something to her."

Zhongqi raised an eyebrow and he then coughed, his expression becoming something of a sceptical frown.

"Pardon me for being so blunt, Mister Swanshen," said the martial artist, "but may I ask how you became acquainted with this 'fiancé'? If our Master has picked a groom for our lovely Sister Lian the entire dojo would know about it. So tell me, who is this man who's bold enough to spread lies about Grandmaster Fei's daughter?"

Jenna's expression instantly soured by the sound of his scornful words, but Alex gripped her hand across the table. She tempered her anger and folded her arms across her chest, rolling her eyes.

"He's a mercenary named Ming Li," said Alex. "Or… Li Ming. He seemed to be from Xian if you ask me. He's a bit shorter than you, has dark long hair and a rather carefree attitude. He strikes me as something of a flirt."

Zhongqi's eyebrows briefly constricted to a scowl and muttered the word "mercenary" for himself.

"Our family deals in the spice trade," Alex continued. "Father enlists the Bilibian company Ilya's Arrows to protect to caravan for longer trips. Ming was a recent recruit though." He looked to Jenna. "When did he join again, Sis?"

"He said he'd been in the company for a couple of months," replied Jenna.

"Of course…" Zhongqi muttered for himself and nodded in thought.

Alex briefly looked to Jenna, who still sat with her arms crossed in silence.

"Do you know him?" Alex then asked carefully.

Zhongqi looked up and laughed dryly.

"His real name's Li Haiming," he said. "He's Captain Li's son—everyone knows about him and the fiasco he was involved in months ago."

"What fiasco?" asked Jenna icily.

"Didn't he tell you why he left Xian?"

Jenna slowly shook her head.

"He used to be a law enforcer but he set an imprisoned murder free."

Jenna gave Zhongqi a wary look.

"Maybe you don't know the whole story," she spoke lowly.

"Perhaps," said the martial artist, "but Li Haiming handed himself over to justice and admitted to the crime. He showed no signs of regret on his trial and that is the reason Captain Li publicly disowned him. You could always ask him for the details yourselves if you meet him again."

"Can you tell us where Master Fei's daughter went instead?" Jenna simply asked with a stern voice.

Zhongqi quietened and looked at Felix's sister for a moment. Alex laughed heartily and placed a hand on Jenna's shoulder, saying that his sister isn't the most patient girl in the world.

"Well, Sister Lian left after a quarrel with our master," the disciple then answered with a sigh. "I heard she left the city to look for Brother Xu." The martial artist then studied Alex and Jenna's looks for a second. "But you shouldn't be heading out of the city on your own with the monsters and bandits ravaging the countryside. Terrible things have befallen travellers and Altin is—"

"We survived _Mogall Forest!_" said Jenna, catching Zhongqi off guard with her tone.

Alex quickly hurried to apologize for his sister's behaviour again and he nudged Jenna's leg with his foot, telling her to stop being rude just for the sake of being rude.

"Mother left us when we were very young," he said with a forced smile, "and Father spoiled this girl rotten. There's a reason no one has asked for her hand yet."

His smile vanished when he felt a sharp pain strike his shin and he involuntarily made a pained expression. Zhongqi gave Alex a sympathetic chuckle and then looked to the fuming Jenna.

"You could leave whatever message you need to deliver to me," Zhongqi then said, extending a hand. "I'll pass it on to Sister Lian once she returns."

"Oh good." Alex smiled and looked to Jenna. "Didn't you have something to deliver, Esther?"

Jenna looked troubled but she took out the silk handkerchief and held it out towards Zhongqi.

"Give this to Feizhi," she said, but when the martial artist reached for it she pulled it back. "You _need_ to give it to her. I promised I'd deliver it to her hand."

Zhongqi nodded with a polite smile as Jenna finally handed the item over, albeit with some reluctance. The martial artist briefly looked at the piece of cloth and his eyes grew tall when he caught a glimpse of the embroidery. He then averted his eyes and whispered something for himself. Jenna was about to ask a question when Alex grabbed her hand and yanked her up from the chair.

"I think we've stayed long enough," he told Zhongqi as he rose from his chair. "Esther, let's not bother Mister Lin anymore."

Knowing how willing Felix's sister was to the help strangers, this was for the best: There was no reason to dwell on the matter any further than necessary—they had far more important things to worry about than a nameless mercenary's wedding. Zhongqi strangely stayed seated at the table holding the handkerchief even as Alex dragged Jenna out of the hall.

"No need to show us the way out," Alex quickly added. "We'll find the door." Reaching the entrance to the main hall, he quickly turned back. "Farewell," he said, bowing his head while making a humble gesture.

Felix's sister hissed at him under her breath as they passed the courtyard, but Alex merely gave her a wounded look and whispered:

"You know how you are; too willing to get involved in people's business. The less we know, the easier it is for you to leave this business behind."

Jenna stared at him for a moment, but then sighed in defeat. Alex released her wrist, but the moment they were to leave the estate, Zhongqi's voice called out to them.

"Mister Swanshen! Miss Swanshen!"

Alex sighed and turned back to the courtyard to meet the martial artist. Zhongqi hastily ran up to them and then held out a paper fan to Jenna.

"If you meet Brother Li again, please give this to him," he said.

"Uh…" Jenna gave the man a hesitant look. "Sure," she then replied and Zhongqi gave her a relieved smile and s heartfelt thank-you before saying his farewells at the gate.

Jenna was clearly moved by his strange change of behaviour and as Alex accompanied her back towards the school, she opened the paper fan. It was blank and white, which was odd since these usually were painted or decorated with calligraphy. Whatever message Lin Zhongqi wanted to convey, only Li Haiming would understand. It was either that, or he'd written a message with invisible ink. Alex studied the troubled look on Jenna's face as she closed the fan.

"Why the long face?" Alex asked with a light chuckle. "You delivered the handkerchief and kept your promise."

Jenna directed her gaze towards the snow on the streets.

"He lied to me…" she said quietly for herself.

"Who? Lin Zhongqi?"

"No, _Ming!_" said Jenna, her eyes flashing as he lifted her head to look Alex straight in the eyes. "Or _Le High Ming_ or whatever his real name is!" She exhaled soundly, lowering her chin towards her chest as she clutched Zhongqi's fan tightly.

Alex didn't know Jenna came to that conclusion, but he decided not to dwell on it. He chuckled and patted Jenna on the shoulder.

"I don't think we know enough of the whole story to judge this case, Esther-dear." He reached out to take the fan from her. "We're leaving this town tomorrow so don't get a headache over this."

Jenna pulled the fan out of his reach and stared at him with a questioning look. He pressed his lips together in a gentle smile, but withdrew his hand. As they continued the walk back to the school, Alex looked sideways to the street-vendors. Seeing a man selling street-snacks, he quickly left and bought a stick of crystalline sugar coated fruits.

"Here," he said once returning to Jenna's side and offering her the sweets.

Felix's sister looked at him with a scowl, but she took the candy regardless and bited off the piece on top.

"_Mm!_" She beamed. "Dish ish gud!" she then said with a wide grin.

Alex laughed heartily, and Jenna looked away. She wiped the spit on the corner of her mouth, furrowing her brow. As they headed back towards the school, Alex exhaled and put his hands behind his back, but his relief was brief. Jenna suddenly made a strange guttural sound as if she choked on the candy and stopped in her tracks, slowly turning back to face the direction from where they'd come.

"Jenna?" said Alex, but he couldn't say another word before Jenna shoved him aside and took off back towards Fei's dojo. Alex cast a look after her in confusion, although it only took him a second to start pursuing her down the streets. "Jen—_E-esther!_ _Wait!_"

Jenna darted past the people on the streets, but she wasn't going back to the dojo. Instead she ran straight up to a tall blond man wandering down the streets and grasped his arm.

"_Isaac!_" she called out, but the man wasn't her blue-eyed childhood friend.

Alex froze on the streets when he realized Jenna had grabbed hold of Igor. The Imilian stared back at Jenna in surprise, the gaze from his brown eyes flicking back and forth between Jenna's face and hands.

"Uh…" Jenna began, letting go of Igor's arm and staggering back. She looked away in embarrassment. "S-sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Igor. How did _he_ get here? Alex's face paled. If Igor was here, did that mean Mia—? He could barely step away before laying his eyes on the woman in white standing next to Igor.

Blue hair, pale complexion, white cloak… There was no mistaking in who was standing there in-between Igor and Oleg. Mia was staring back at Alex; she stared right at his dumbfounded expression with narrowed eyes.

Alex couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't hear Jenna gasp and address him by his fake name. He didn't feel her impatiently tug at his arm and tell him they should leave. His world stood still—frozen in time as he locked eyes with the angel of justice.

Her face twitched. His did too, he could feel. As her hardened stare became a singular scowl, he let out a pathetic cry and spun around his heels, shoving Jenna out of the way as he sprinted down the streets back towards the school.

Mia called out his name and her footsteps stormed after him within seconds. Alex's mind raced as she began to catch up to him. His heart pounded against his ribs. His flowing robes flapped through the air and he slipped behind confused bystanders and shoved people in Mia and her companions' way.

"_Traitor!_" Mia yelled and dodged to the side, continuing her pursuit at the side of the streets. "You won't escape this time!"

Alex ran, and he had to _keep_ running—He didn't know what else he could do. The wind howled in his ears and the cries and threats from behind became distant calls. His eyes grew wide when Mia suddenly stepped in front of him from the side of the streets with her clerical staff—the top encased in ice to form the head of a flanged mace. She swung at him and he twirled aside and dodged the blow. She growled like a wild animal and pursued with another telegraphed strike, and he kept dodging. His feet moved quickly and he kept stepping back, putting as much distance between them as fast as possible. Cries erupted from the crowd and Alex sidestepped once more but he stumbled into a salestand right behind him. Panicking, he took whatever was on the table and tossed it at Mia, who knocked the boxes of make-up powder out of her way before trying to smash his face with the staff. Alex darted aside, barely escaping as her weapon crashed onto the table. He swiped his hand and tossed a flurry of snow in her face before slipping away.

The people on the streets screamed and Alex slipped away as quickly as possible, but Igor and Oleg's steps were not far behind. A woman screeched when Alex grabbed her and shoved her in Igor's way. Oleg grabbed Alex's cape, but Alex swiped an open hand through the air, causing a blur of snowflakes to explode in his sleeve to disorient Oleg while he pushed the cloak over his head and fled.

Suddenly, a sharp pain ripped through his chest and the coldness among pain told him Mia was throwing icy projectiles at him. He stumbled and coughed involuntarily, and the taste of iron in his mouth told him his lung might've been punctured.

Coldness enveloped him as his Psynergy began working miracles on his damaged body and he cursed under his breath. Unlike his tumble down the Imilian hills that fateful night, this time he didn't have a forest to hide in—if he passed out in exhaustion here he'd certainly be captured.

He staggered as a familiar pain began to rip through his side. His world started to blur, but he focused on the closest alleyway and bit his lip as he pressed on.

"_Wah!_"

A young woman crossing his path let out a cry as he bumped into her. He heard a crash, but he didn't see what she dropped. Neither did he care since Mia and the others were closing in.

"_Alex!_"

Mia's voice threw him into a state of panic and he grabbed the Xianese girl and spun around, throwing her into Mia as soon she appeared at the alley. Sweeping an open hand through the air, Alex drew upon his Psynergy and cast multiple spells. Powdered snow scattered from his fingertips as he vanished into the shadows, leaving the area covered in frost and mist.

Mia cursed and pushed the poor maiden out of her way. She was about to take up the chase, but tripped and fell undignified on a frozen puddle on the street—in a fluke, Alex had frozen the spilt wine on the ground.

Standing silently in the shadows, Alex pressed his hands against his mouth to subdue his heavy breathing. Mia's expression was twisted in rage as she turned her head and searched with her gaze around the alley.

"Run then, coward!" she said, shakily sitting up on the frozen ground. "Keep running, Alex!" She roared, her gaze now directed skywards. "You can't run forever! I'll find you even if I'll have to chase you to the end of the world!"

She panted and gnashed teeth and her hand shook while searching for her staff on the ground. Her eyes glimmered and tears of anger rolled down her cheeks. Once she grasped the staff however, her expression fell and she wiped a hand across her face, inhaling deeply as Igor and Oleg finally arrived to the scene. Before they could speak or offer any help, Mia raised her hand and rigidly stood up, wobbling as she almost tripped again.

"Where did he go?" asked Oleg.

"Teleported again, that coward," Mia replied behind clenched teeth. She healed the scrapes and cuts caused by the shards of ceramic from the broken wine jar and her companions watched her worriedly in silence. Igor started to help the unfortunate woman who seemed frightened beyond words, but Mia shouted at him with uncharacteristic hostility:

"What are you doing? _Find_ him! Split up and find him!" She roared, swiping a hand across the air. "I don't care _how_ you do it—just _find_ him! _Find him…_"

Igor stared at her with hesitation but Oleg simply nodded and affirmed the task, although he made a gesture to Igor and told him to get the maiden to safety. They then split up and left the alley, heading in opposing directions. Mia clenched and unclenched her hand around the grip of Saint Imil's sword, her gaze being fixed on the ground.

Alex could hear voices coming from the main street, discouraging curious citizens from approaching the alley. He then heard people talk about the event, saying they should report the crazy foreigners to the authorities. Mia's face twitched and she shut her eyes tightly.

"I am a Guardian." She whispered to herself in a pained voice. "I am a Guardian of Mercury. I safeguard the world. I protect the people. What I do. I do because I _must_."

She let out a sigh that sounded like crying and Alex instinctively took a step towards her, reaching out his hand out, but when Mia jerked her head up and looked his way, he froze.

Mia looked around, her eyes wide and suspicious, but she couldn't see through his spell even when he stood right next to her. His illusionist skills; he acquired them during his pilgrimage and he never told her the nature of his abilities. She thought he was much stronger than he truly was; she truly believed he was a sorcerer who could tear down mountains and teleport at will—if only she knew he was still the same weak healer he'd always been.

She pressed her free hand to the lower part of her face and drew a deep breath. Then, she left the alley too.

Alex listened to her footsteps fade away and silence returned to the foggy alleyway. He lowered his hand from his face and exhaled a puff of mist to the air. Directing his gaze up towards grey skies, he leant against the wall behind him, sliding down along it to the ground.

He wiped the blood from his mouth. His vision became blurred with tears and yet, a smile dawned on his lips. Why? Was he so used to smiling through sadness and grief that it was all he could do?

He blinked and shook his head. The pain on his back was gone but he felt weak. This was the flaw in his gift—he could pull through fatal injuries, but his Psynergy rendered him powerless afterwards.

_Slep._

He administered a hard slap to his face. Stay awake, he scolded himself inwardly. You can't fall asleep now, he thought. If you're caught, your life is forfeit! What are you, Alexander? A trainee healer? What happened to your resilience? What happened to seeing the journey to the end? What happened to taking up Saint Imil spear and fulfilling your uncle's dying wish?

But then he closed his eyes.

I've done my part, he rationalized. The Lighthouse is lit—I've done my part in this godforsaken quest! I no longer have a role in this damned mission. Even if I get away now, where can I go? Even if I escape today, how many more times can I successfully escape?

He was prepared for this, wasn't he? When he left the temple with Saint Imil's spear, he knew she'd chase him to the end of the world. When he slipped away into the woods and escaped her wrath in the valley, he knew she wouldn't rest until he was brought back to Imil in shackles. Yet, he wanted to go back—even now, he wanted to run to her and ask for her forgiving. He was tired. He was so tired of this life. So tired of running and hiding… So tired of being away from home. So tired of being away from her.

Light snow began to fall and Alex could hear voices from the main street.

The tip of his nose and his fingertips felt numb and he tucked his hands in under his wide sleeves. He propped himself up on shaky legs, leaning against the wall. He cursed, seeing that the recent wound on his back had left blood on the wall. He shuddered as the wind chilled his body and stumbled as his strength failed him. With a spell he conjured a ladder of ice and climbed up on the nearest building to rest on the roof of the house. The roof tiles clicked and clattered under his shivering frame and the ladder crumbled to powdered snow soon after.

He should've died in that valley. It was all thanks to his gift of magic that he managed to cling on to life. It was all thanks to an overly compassionate Earth Adept that he wasn't buried alive. And it was thanks to his friend's ill-tempered sister, that he'd survived this far.

He heard footsteps and through tired half-lidded eyes he glimpsed a group of men clad in black and red arrive to the alley—townguards. Alex drew his knees up to his chest and folded his arms about himself.

He'd repeatedly told himself that he wanted glory and fame. That he wanted future generations to know his tale. But was this really the tale he wanted people to remember him by?

Years ago, he left the City of Imil with a will of steel, taking with him a copy of the runic writing from the secret wall in the Mercury Lighthouse. He was determined to solve the mystery of his uncle's death. Even though Mia implored him to stay, saying she couldn't run the temple, he insisted.

He had to know. He had to know the reason his uncle took his own life and the meaning of his last words. Those words… he'd never repeated them to anyone. He had intended to tell her the truth on the night of his return but… he got carried away.

_Slep._

He slapped his face again. It was his fault he was in this situation in the first place. If he'd prioritized better he wouldn't have ended up in this situation. He wouldn't be in this situation if he'd only spent that night explaining to Mia what was about to happen instead of… instead of—No matter. It was too late for regrets. Too late to turn back. All he could do was to press on. He didn't cross continents and uncovered the truth just to die like a brigand mage.

Even if he wasn't doing it for himself, he had to do it for _her_.

I am a Guardian, he told himself. I am a Guardian of Mercury. I safeguard the world. I protect the people. What I do. I do because I _must_.

He had to find Jenna. He had to get back to the school. He had to warn the others, but those godforsaken guards were still in the alley. Alex shuddered as the wind chilled his frail body once again. His head was heavy like an anvil and he placed his hands on the tiles to not fall and they clicked under his weigh.

"Captain Li, look!"

Alex cursed inwardly.

"You there! What do you think you're doing?"

He cursed under his breath.

"Xing, get up there."

Alex shut his eyes tightly. This couldn't be how it ended. It couldn't!

_Tak-tak._

A dark-haired guardsman leapt up to the roof, crouching as he eyed at Alex.

"Mister, are you hurt?" asked the man, slowly approaching with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Alex swiped an arm at the guard, trying to summon a spell, but his Psynergy was drained. His eyelids were too heavy and he swayed, unable to keep his balance. And to add insult to injury, he collapsed in the townguard's arms.

* * *

He woke up on a cold, flat, smooth surface. He fumbled around on the ice for support as his eyes adjusted to the strange blue light shining under the surface. His knees and hands ached and he wobbled to his feet. Where was he?

He blinked and rubbed his eyes, lifting his head. It seemed like he'd been resting on the middle of a frozen lake shrouded in mist. And there was a pole, glowing as it stood erected on the surface in front of Alex. No, it was a spear—a spear of light. The spearhead was embedded in the lake, emitting a ghastly blue light as cracks in the ice glowed like a web at dawn.

Alex reached out to grasp the spear, but hesitated and froze when the ice suddenly cracked under his weight. The ice continued to break and he withdrew his hand and scrambled back.

Then, a blue wisp rose from the cracks and painted a human figure in the air right in front of him; a tall slim figure, a long billowing cape, and long flowing hair. Realizing that he was staring at a mirror image of himself, a gasp escaped Alex's lips and he instantly reached for the Spear of Light.

The impostor however swiftly kicked him in the face and launched Alex back onto the ice. Tasting blood from his broken lips, Alex spat and propped back up on shaking hands. Seeing that the impostor had taken Imil's spear, Alex slammed his palms against the surface and a torrent of water burst from the ice, knocking the double off his feet.

Quickly, he lunged at the impostor. A blur of snowflakes clouded his vision but he didn't care. He swung his fist, delivering a blow to the doppelgänger's jaw with his knuckles and then dropping him to the ice with a swift kick to the shins. The impostor tried to flee, but Alex straddled him and punched him again.

"Who are you?" He hissed at the impostor and grabbed the front of his coat, shaking him.

The double merely grinned, his grey-blue eyes glinting as his lips formed words, but Alex couldn't hear his voice. Then, Alex noticed droplets of blood falling on his victim's coat and when he looked down he found himself impaled on the Spear of Light. Alex's eyes grew tall and he lost his breath for a second. Suddenly he felt the pain and a force of magic cast him off his prey and back onto the surface of the lake. He gasped for breath and his body convulsed as he pressed healing hands against his gaping wound. He would heal, he knew that for sure, but could he still fight? Could he still fight the demon that'd copied his form and possibly all his abilities too?

"What are you?" said Alex, painfully propping himself up on his hands.

"I am you," replied the double with a snide grin. Not only did it steal Alex's appearance, it'd stolen his voice as well.

"_Bullshit._" Alex poured Psynergy into his hands and shattered the ice beneath the double's feet. The demon vanished in a flurry of snow, leaving Alex staring at the nothingness in shock. A blow to the back of his head sent him face-first onto the ice once more. He focused his mind, fighting the nausea that slowly crept up from his stomach. He spun around and swiped his hand at the impostor with a spell, but a spearhead cut his arm and stained his sleeve with blood.

Alex scrambled back, clutching his wounded arm. He watched the spearman twirl and flourish his weapon. He then launched an insult at the impostor in a fit of rage, but to his shock he realized he no longer possessed a voice.

A grin appeared on the doppelgänger's face as he vanished in a breath of mist and then reappeared several paces away from Alex's miserable form. The impostor extended a hand and sparks of light gathered on his palm, pooling like water and spilling over his hand. The light shaped into a sword and he flung the blade towards Alex, sending it tip first it into the ice next to his feet.

Alex stared at the demon, eyes blazing in fury. His eyes shifted to the sword for a moment and then looked back to the double. He tried to yell at the demon again, but once more no words came out of his mouth.

The doppelgänger brandished Saint Imil's spear again.

"Tell me, dear Alexander," said the double with a pretentious smile. "Is Imil's heir truly so weak? Or are you just another pretender among many?"

Alex swiped his arms in front of him in defiance, but this time his Psynergy failed him. For the first time, his Psynergy didn't even respond to his command and before he knew it the ice below his feet shattered and he plunged into the frigid water with the doppelgänger's loud cackling ringing in his ears.

He flailed with his arms and swam back towards the surface, only to find that the hole had been sealed up. Through the ice, he saw the doppelgänger step around above him. The demon's cloak was dark-blue and his loose long hair was the same colour and shade as Alex's own—had he not dyed it brown. The double squatted and looked down at him through the ice, tilting his head aside and putting a finger to his chin.

It filled Alex with rage and he slammed his palms against the ice, but it didn't melt. Instead, it grew thicker and pushed him further down into the depths. He heard crackling sounds as the rest of the water began to freeze. He punched the ice, commanding it to melt. Bubbles escaped his lips but nothing more—his Psynergy refused to respond to his command as if he'd been completely stripped of his birthright. Soon, he found himself in a pocket of water that was growing smaller still and his lungs began to burn for air.

Then, in the corner of his eye he suddenly spotted the sword of light float towards him. Without a second thought he reached out and grasped its hilt and a white light burst from the blade. Feeling his breath and all of his strength return to him, Alex swung the blade upwards with all his might and split the ice. Bright light bled from the opening and swallowed him whole, enveloping the rest of world in brightness as well. The ice and coldness vanished and for a moment Alex felt weightless and even comforting warmth.

Then, the light was gone and he was suddenly greeted by darkness. A snowflake tickled his nose in the silent night and he found himself back on the rooftop where he'd passed out on.

His body ached. He felt as if he'd slept for several days straight. He lifted his head and turned his gaze towards the sky to face the bright full moon and the starry night. He shifted around on the thatch roof and gazed upon a landscape of snowy mountains and a river gleaming in the distance. This wasn't the city of Xian.

Looking down he realized he was half-naked and only wearing baggy cotton trousers while his chest and arms were wrapped in bloody bandages as if he'd been wrestling a bear.

A blur of darkness suddenly swept past him and he looked aside, finding Felix perching next to him with a happy smile. The Earth Adept wore a brown tunic and a long red cloak, fastened with a silvery brooch in the shape of a sun or star. His long brown hair was gathered in twin braids hanging on either side of his face and a golden circlet wrapped around his forehead. Felix raised a jug of wine to the sky with a radiant smile. Alex could only stare at his friend with question, but Felix didn't seem to notice his astonishment. Instead he lowered his jug and knocked it against the bottle in Alex's right hand and then drank. Alex lowered his gaze and stared at the half-full bottle in his own hand. He was drinking? When he was _wounded_?

Felix suddenly threw an arm around Alex's shoulders and brought him close to him, almost pushing the Water Adept's head against his shoulder. Alex turned his head and looked up to Felix's profile in the moonlight. Didn't Jenna chop off his hair in Bilibin? When did he grow pointed ears like Menardi's. And… how did he get so tall?

Felix turned his head and looked at Alex with his contagious smile. His lips moved, but Alex couldn't hear his words. He gestured towards the mountains and the river with his free hand, looking inspirational and proud.

Then suddenly, Felix shuddered and his gaze fell towards the ground. A woman with flowers in her hair stood below the building. It was Jenna. She looked different; wearing an outrageous pink dress adorned with roses and lace and she carried what seemed to be a rapier on her ornate belt. Her mouth moved and she wore an angry expression—she seemed to be yelling at him. Alex looked back to Felix and the Earth Adept put his alcohol away on the roof and grabbed a massive sword resting at his side. He leapt off the roof, his red cloak billowing after him like a banner, and he landed in front of Jenna, still grinning like an idiot as he lifted the two-handed sword over his shoulder. Jenna punched him on the chest and began pointing angrily at him. Felix responded by wiggling his head and making a dismissive gesture.

Alex desperately wished he could hear their words. He shifted around on the roof and looked down to the bottle in his right hand. Looking aside, he realized he clutched a rod in his other hand and at one end was a spearhead adorned with runes and a long red tassel. Wait. These runes… this spear….

He quickly looked back to Felix and Jenna when a cold wind suddenly roared in his ears and his vision blurred into darkness as if he'd suddenly become blind.

"Felix!" he called out. "_Jenna!_" He yelled, but his cries echoed into the void.

Once he regained all his senses, he was no longer on that roof. Instead, he stood in misty dark woods with the wind howling in his ears. His body and limbs felt numb and his mouth was dry. Looking past the trees, he glimpsed a moonlit road, and in the distance he saw the old walls of Xian. A faint glow emitted from his right hand in the darkness and when he looked in that direction he found a cold spear in his hand. Saint Imil's spear was stained with blood, and the spear shaft he clutched was made of frigid glowing ice. Blood dribbled from the spearhead and travelled along the shaft, staining his fingers and his shaking hand.

He staggered back in shock, stepping on something soft and when he looked down he found bodies littered at his feet; one, two, three, four, five men—all wearing the Xianese city watch's uniform.

The spear slipped out of his bloodied hand. The shaft shattered once it hit the ground and became mist as the spearhead bounced against the snowy moss, its long white tassel partially dyed red with blood.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

I'll be honest: This chapter took so long because I couldn't decide how to name NPCs and even longer because I was playing _Fire Emblem: Fates_. xD

I looked up Master Feh and Feizhi's names and I have no idea how Chin got changed to Feh in the localization or why Kouran got changed to Feizhi. Anyway, I decided to change their names to something that isn't retarded bullshit. Also, I'll be using pinyin romanization for Chinese names.

This story arc might take a bit longer since I haven't entirely decided how to handle certain events such as Altin and Lamakan.


	25. – The Commander

**M**ia sat sideways at the small table in her room, her right arm resting on the wood and her hand grasping a quill with dried ink. The paper beneath the hand was blank, even though she'd been sitting in the inn all morning trying to formulate words for a letter home.

Before there was an Alexander, there was an Elena.

Elena was Dmitri's elder sister, but the high priest didn't speak of her and had forbidden the family from mentioning her name. All Mia knew about her aunt was that she ran away with a band of travellers despite being promised to another. Her grandparents had disowned her for the travesty.

The Clan of Mercury was small, but the number of clansmen weren't thinned by death and disaster but rather by abandonment of the old ways. Those like Elena, who left their duty, were orphaned and no longer worthy to bear the Mercury Clan's name.

Mia didn't think much about the aunt she never knew, but she cared deeply for Elena's son. When Mia still was a girl and Alex a boy, Mia often found him sneaking out in the middle of the night to sit on the steps, to play his flute, and to cry silently. She'd sat with him a few times and kept him company; she knew how it felt to grieve at night and put up a brave face at day. There were always so many things she wanted to say to him—so many things she wanted to tell—but they'd always returned to their separate rooms without saying a word.

Mia didn't know exactly why she began to care. Maybe it was obligation; a friendship forced by kinship and duty. Maybe it began with pity and then turned into something more; after all, they spent years together under the same roof. Regardless, she knew she was attached to Alex when Elena one day showed up in Imil to retrieve her child.

Alexander wasn't there to meet his mother; he was an early riser and had run off to his favourite reading spot. But Mia and her father were there to greet Elena when she arrived.

Elena was tall and beautiful; she had flawless pale skin, rosy cheeks and flowing long blue hair. And she was wealthy; she wore velvet and silk and she had servants tending to her daily needs.

Mia couldn't remember much of the argument her father had with Elena. But she remembered Elena saying that even if Dmitri didn't let her son go, Alex would eventually leave on his own. If Alexander was anything like her, she said, he would be clever enough to see the lies in their legacy and leave the north one day.

Mia had stormed out of the building with tears streaking her face. She'd darted across the bridge and run down the streets, ascended winding stairs and narrow paths to eventually find her way to the large oak tree where Alex read alone. She'd climbed the tree, surprised Alex, and she'd tossed her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and extracting from him a promise that he wouldn't leave.

That day, she talked to him for the first time, and she dragged him around town, needlessly showing off to the townsfolk how much she cherished him. And he, he knew instantly something had made her upset, but she never told him what it was. He'd asked if she had a fight with her dad, and she'd kept her silence and let him believe whatever he wished.

It was sundown when they finally made their way back home, and even then she was worried Elena would forcefully take Alex away from her. She'd stopped on the middle of the bridge and refused to go on, but he'd comforted her, blissfully unaware of his looming fate:

"Don't worry," he'd told her, flashing his carefree smile. "We're family. Uncle can't stay angry with you forever."

Once they returned home, Elena was already gone. High Priest Dmitri didn't mention her visit, so Mia didn't say anything either.

Yet, she snuck into her father's study later and asked questions. The father had been reluctant to speak about shame in the family. It was how it was, he said. Elena had been erased from the family tapestry so they didn't owe her anything. But when Mia pressured him, he told her his sister's tale.

The street-musician that Alex believed was his dad was in fact only his father's friend. Elena's husband died young and she'd cast her own child away so that she could re-marry into the wealthy elite. Only now after she'd inherited his second husband's fortune did she return to retrieve her forgotten son.

"She claims she wants to pay respect to your grandparents," said High Priest Dmitri, "but she only came here to spit on their graves. She wanted to gloat. She's a horrible person. Even now, she firmly believes she's never erred."

_Dock-dock._

A faint knock caught Mia's attention and she turned around and stared at the closed doors. She drew a deep breath and brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes as the person outside spoke:

"Mia? Are you still in there?"

"I told you not to bother me today," said Mia with a stern voice. "This better be important."

"It's Alex," replied Igor and Mia's eyes flashed at the mention of the traitor's name. "He's been captured."

A soft breeze swept through the streets of Xian as Mia marched towards the administrative compound. Igor and Oleg walked right behind her as usual, paying no heed to the strangers staring and pointing at them as they passed. In Imil, the soft sound of her staff hitting the ground made people part ways to give her passage, and her presence was a reminder to the people that they were under protection of Saint Imil. Here, the rabble shot her suspicious looks and pointed in her direction while whispering rude accusations.

She kept her head high, and she marched on. It didn't matter what the rabble thought of her. If they'd known the sheer magnitude of Alex's actions, they wouldn't be so quick to judge her methods. If they'd known Alex was responsible for the demonic beasts attacking the countryside right now, they'd happily hunt him down in the most barbaric ways.

When she finally arrived to the gates of the administrative compound, she stepped up to one of the guards keeping watch outside, asking him to notify the higher ups of her arrival. The man simply told Mia to head right in since Captain Li was expecting her.

Mia treaded past the snowy courtyard and headed towards the main building, but froze when she suddenly sighted the obnoxious blond Valian and his little friend exiting the same structure.

When Isaac of Vale noticed her presence, he stopped in his pace and stared at her across the courtyard with his dark blue eyes; he stared at her with a contemptuous expression reserved for _her_ only.

Mia ignored his stupid face. Isaac of Vale hardly mattered at all in the grand scheme of things—in the end of the day, he was just a conceited peasant trying to rescue a girl. If he'd been a templar, she'd perhaps valued some of his opinion. But for now, all she needed to do was to keep him busy and out of trouble.

"Why are you here?" asked Mia, though she wouldn't be surprised if he'd spent the night here in detention. "Have you restocked the supplies?"

The dark blue of eyes of the errant fighter narrowed slightly but the corners of his lips lifted to form a cocky smile.

"I finished my chores yesterday, Your Holiness," replied Isaac. He jerked his head upwards. "Am I not allowed to be here?"

Mia kept staring at him.

"Why are you here?" she repeated.

"I had a nice chat with your lover," said Isaac.

Igor took a step forward but Mia rigidly raised a hand in front of him without a hint of change in her expression.

"What did he tell you?" she asked Isaac. She had important things to do and didn't have time to engage in a childish spat.

"Is there something I _shouldn't_ know?" said Isaac. At this point, Ivan worriedly tugged the idiot's arm—or his leash. Isaac looked to his little friend briefly, but then focused his gaze on Mia once more.

"The scoundrels are heading for the Venus Lighthouse," said Isaac, finally dropping his childish act.

Mia smiled mildly and exhaled through her nose.

"Did Alex tell you that?" she asked.

Isaac of Vale held her look.

"I don't think he's lying," he replied. "Felix and Jenna left yesterday. If we hurry we can still—"

Mia rolled her eyes before he could even finish.

"And _how_ do you know he isn't lying?" she asked while narrowing her eyes. She'd raised her voice to silence him, but she kept her tone below the volume of yelling.

Isaac of Vale stood silent. He lowered his brow in contempt, but he couldn't seem to find words to speak. Ivan tugged at his arm again, begging the idiot to stop embarrassing himself.

"I have my ways," Isaac then said. He grasped Ivan's little hand and then raised it.

Mia shook her head with a blank expression.

"I don't understand," she said evenly, dissatisfied with his explanation if it even counted as one.

"You don't have to," replied Isaac. Somehow, her statement had fuelled his pride and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards into a haughty smile. "All you need to know is that I'm going after them—now."

"I do not approve of your leave," said Mia.

"Who are you to ban me from _anything_?" Isaac predictably asked, his cold words cutting through the air like a sharp knife and his proud expression suddenly became an angry frown.

The Xianese guard hesitantly raised his hand towards them.

"Hey, calm down," said the man, but Mia and Isaac kept staring at each other. "We're all civilized people here, and this isn't a place for fighting."

Ivan yanked at Isaac's leash again and whispered his name. The Valian's stiff gaze softened. Isaac sighed and began leaving the courtyard in sweeping strides but as he stepped past Mia she spoke out to him one last time:

"Isaac of Vale." Even though she didn't turn around to face him, she still heard his footsteps halt behind her. "If you leave against my order, you are a deserter and I will treat you as one."

Isaac didn't answer immediately, and Mia could even hear him laugh for himself in a low cackle.

"You're not my boss," he then finally replied in a raspy voice, spitting those words out as if it was something he'd wanted to say for a long time.

She closed her eyes and sighed, lowering her brow in a tired frown. No wonder the Order of Vale didn't want him—the delinquent fool.

Igor placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she calmly pushed it away and continued into the building.

Captain Li graciously met her in the office, though he questioned her late arrival with sarcasm since Isaac had already been here and visited "the sorcerer".

"I apologize for whatever offence he may have caused," said Mia.

"There was none," replied Li as he wrote something into his book of records. He then gestured to Mia and asked her to leave all weapons on the desk.

Mia smiled and placed her weapons on the counter. Oleg and Igor put their swords on the desk as well. Li then gestured to one of his men cleaning the shelves.

"Xing, take them to the sorcerer."

The young man nodded and put the old books back on the shelf. He then gestured to Mia and led her out of the administrative office and to the building where criminals were held in detention while awaiting trial, execution or banishment.

The prison guards seemed bored; they sat in the staff area drinking and playing a game of dice. Xing didn't comment on their idleness and Mia wondered if this was usual behaviour, but she didn't say anything out aloud and merely smiled and nodded to the guards who checked the records and then handed Xing the key to Alex's cell.

The prisoners were kept underground where it was dark and cold. The cells were small spaces only separated by bars. There were a few small apertures in the wall in some cells, but aside from that there was no source of light.

Alex however, was classified as a highly dangerous criminal and his cell was further down in the basement in a separate room where no daylight could reach. He was locked away in a large cubic steel cage and his wrists and ankles were in shackles.

He sat in the middle of his cage with his legs pulled up to his chest and his chin lowered towards his knees. He was clad in dirty Xianese style under garments and didn't even have a blanket to keep himself warm. His hair veiled his face, although Mia saw his eyes glimmer under his dirt-brown fringe. She couldn't decide whether those were genuine tears of regret, or simply moisture invoked by the light of Xing's lantern. After all, he'd been trapped in complete darkness for quite a while.

"Hey, you!" said Xing, addressing the captive. "Hey! You have visitors." He tried to sound assertive but the way he pitched his voice only made it sound fake. But then, he was probably new to the job since he dusted bookshelves.

Alex's gaze wandered on the floor but he didn't lift his head. Mia waited for the guard to unlock the cage and let her in, but she soon realized that she wasn't supposed to approach the "animal".

"Leave us," she then told Xing.

"Huh?" said the guard. "But Priestess, it might not be safe—he's a—"

"I am the High Priestess of Imil's Santuary," she replied dryly, speaking to Xing although her gaze was directed at Alex. "I am the Matriarch of the Mercury Clan and the Commander of the Imilian Watch. If I somehow am miraculously harmed when two of my best men are around, _your_ presence will hardly make a difference."

Xing stood speechless with a dumbfounded expression. He didn't seem to know whether to be offended or intimidated.

"This man is a traitor of the Mercury Clan," said Mia, turning to Xing with a calm smile. "He can still attack you even from behind these bars. I don't want another person to protect if he decides to _lash out_ on us."

"But—"

"If your captain questions you, tell him to speak his complaints to _me_." She then looked to Oleg. "Oleg, would you kindly accompany our friend back to the staff area?"

"Yes, Commander."

Mia gave him a nod and Oleg responded in kind. He put a hand on the young guard's shoulder and then ushered him back upstairs, leaving Mia and Igor alone in the dungeon with Alex. Igor had lit his lantern while Oleg escorted Xing out, and Mia studied Alex's undignified form in the lamplight. As she took a step towards the bars, Alex moved and his heavy shackles and chains jingled as he retreated to the back of his cage.

"You look despicable," she said, her voice echoing through the room.

Alex moved his head, but didn't lift his gaze, his chains jingling as he repositioned his feet and lowered his knees. He was the only person locked away in this place so he had all the silence in the world to reflect on his mistakes.

"So what did you tell him?" asked Mia.

"Him?" said Alex dejectedly. "Who?"

"You _know_ who I'm talking about," replied Mia.

Alex clammed up and shook his head.

"_Speak!_" she demanded. "What did you say to that moron and his little friend?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Alex replied, still staring at the floor. "Isn't he your ally?"

Her eyes twitched and she stepped closer and grasped the bars separating her from the traitor.

"You can lie to the entire world, Alex," she told him in a low voice, "but you can't lie to _me_. Not _anymore_."

Alex shook his head in dejection but he said nothing.

"You think you can turn over a leaf simply by dyeing your hair dirt brown?" said Mia. "By changing your name and fooling some unknowing merchant to take you in? Did you marry his pretty daughter too?"

The last statement must have hit a nerve, because Alex suddenly jerked his face up and finally met her eyes.

"I would _never_—"

"_Alexander_ would never stoop that low," she said, shooting him an icy glare. "Alexander wouldn't run away with some outlaws and betray his own family! But who are _you_?"

Alex lowered his head and looked away—Mia couldn't tell whether it was defiance or shame. He bit his lip, and then fidgeted with the chain connecting the shackles on his wrists.

"I can't stay the same Alexander you know forever," he then replied sullenly. "And you are hardly the shy Maria who greeted me when I first arrived in Imil."

She sighed and turned her back to Alex.

"Mia…" said Igor.

She closed her eyes and put her hand up in the air, telling her friend to hold his tongue. Igor might be sentimental enough to be swayed by his act, but _she_ wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

"My father crossed the continent to retrieve you," she said. "He took you in, fed you, clothed you and taught you. He bestowed on you trust and power." She stared at the wall. She focused on his betrayal and blinked away the excess moisture in her eyes and then faced Alex again. "So why did you stray? Tell me, Alex; what did those brigand wizards use to sway you to their side. Tell me what is worth—"

"They didn't offer me _anything!_" said Alex.

"That's even _worse!_" retorted Mia.

Alex froze and stared at her in disbelief. Then he averted his eyes, and for a moment he sat silent, shaking his head. His shoulders shuddered and he let out a low sarcastic chuckle.

"Am I truly that insignificant to you?" he then asked. "No, are _we_ truly that insignificant compared to our ancestors' grand legacy?"

"Yes," replied Mia unflinchingly, closing her mouth and clenching her teeth as soon the word left her lips.

When Alex simply lowered his head in shame, she took a deep breath and gestured to Igor that it was time to leave. But once she took the first step away from him, Alex hastily rose from the floor and threw himself against the steel bars.

"Uncle _died_ for this!" shouted Alex.

Mia's eyes twitched and she froze in her pace for a second, but she steeled her will and then kept walking.

"_Imil's riddle!_" said Alex. "I didn't solve Imil's riddle—_Uncle did!"_

She kept walking, unfazed by his nonsense.

"_Uncle_ unlocked the pathway to the Lighthouse's aerie with his life! Before he passed to the next realm… he asked me to—"

"Father was already dead when you arrived!" She spun around and glared at his miserable form. "Have you forgotten that, you liar?"

"I _am_ a liar!" he yelled back, clutching steel bars in his hands. "I lied to you that morning. I lied to _the world_ that day! I lied… I lied so you could have the closure I so badly desired!"

He told her that her father had discovered Saint Imil's will etched into a wall in the Mercury Lighthouse. He told her that High Priest Dmitri exhausted his life force in dispelling the enchantment protecting the Lighthouse aerie. And he told her that her father died in his arms.

"You must unlock the power, he told me," said Alex. "You are Imil's chosen, he said. It is your duty to show the world its light."

Mia stared at the traitor. She knew Alex could lie, but this was a new kind of low.

"You can say whatever you want when your only witness is a dead man."

"_Mia!_" he shouted.

"_Don't worry, Alex!_" she roared back. "I will give you a trial! But I will march you towards Vale beginning tomorrow. You know how frail your body is. Even with your gift of magic, I doubt you can withstand the life of a prisoner for the months to come. So turn back to the path of light before it is too late."

"Mia…"

"May Saint Imil have mercy on your soul, Alex."

Finishing, she turned away and continued to leave.

"Make your own judgment!" Alex called after her. "But ask yourself why Uncle was so depressed in his last year! Why did he leave us to handle his duties while he buried himself in old records and scrolls! And why did he restore my mother's name in the family tree, even though she was condemned for leaving the clan!"

She returned to the staff area where Oleg was chatting with the prison guards. When he saw her approaching he excused himself and rejoined the group. After reclaiming their weapons in Li's office and finishing the paperwork for retrieving Alex tomorrow, the group left the administrative compound.

"Did you get any information?" asked Mia as they started heading back to the inn—it was past noon and they still hadn't eaten lunch.

"The merchant Alex stayed with is a Bilibian spice trader named Swanson," replied Oleg. "Apparently, he charmed his way into the family but now they don't want anything to do with him since it's been revealed that he's a thief."

"Understandable," replied Mia.

"The traders are still in the Peach Garden School," said Oleg. "Should I investigate?"

"Leave that to the Valians; seems like a dead end to me. You two make some preparations to leave the city tomorrow. The sooner we get to Vale, the faster we can get to the bottom of Alex's complicated scheme. It's not that I don't trust our Valian allies, but I think they are hiding things from us—especially the idiot."

"I don't think Isaac's that bad," said Oleg.

"Hah!" laughed Igor. "Are you friends with him?"

"I don't mind him." Oleg shrugged. "We spoke a couple of times when we changed shifts. He's a little bit stuck-up, but his heart seems to be in the right place."

Mia exhaled through her nose with a smile. Isaac of Vale liked to boast about his abilities, but how good was the nail if it didn't hold the construct together and hooked into your clothing? Isaac needed to be either hammered down or removed before he caused major damage. Hopefully, she'd only need to deal with him until they reach in Vale.

"Are you sure it's safe to leave Alex in the prison, Mia?" said Oleg, suddenly changing the subject.

"What do you mean?" asked Mia.

"Those guards aren't the most professional lot I've met." Oleg pointed behind him with his thumb. "If that Shing-guy is to be believed, Alex singlehandedly defeated all _five_ of Li's men in combat. Think about it. _Alex_, beating the crap out of _five_ men!"

"How did they capture him then?" asked Igor.

"Shing said Alex turned himself in out of guilt."

"Whaaat? _Seriously?_"

"Seriously."

Mia held her breath and clutched her staff tightly as the conversation was sidetracked. Her thoughts lingered on Alex's fate; He turned himself in. _Why?_

Once they were back at the inn, Mia asked her friends about their funds.

"Uh, about that…" said Igor. "We've spent quite a lot on bribes, Mia."

"And for paying repair-bills for the collateral damage yesterday," added Oleg with a cough.

Mia stomped off the snow from her boots before stepping into the inn.

"I only need to know if our funds will last to Vale."

"Let's see…" said Igor. He scratched the bottom of his chin and began doing the maths in his head. "With Alex and the Valians… It's really hard to say."

Mia nodded thoughtfully. When she passed the counter where the innkeeper sat and made calculations with an abacus, the man passed her a note and said it was from her companion. She read the short message and almost laughed out aloud.

"Who's it from?" asked Igor.

"Our favourite friend from Vale," replied Mia, crumpling the note and putting it in her pocket. "Very considerate of him to leave a note before deserting."

As her friends took seats at a table and began ordering food, Mia went upstairs. She noticed the staff of the inn cleaning Isaac's room—the idiot _wasn't_ joking after all.

She sighed and opened the door to her own room. After putting her weapons away, she laid down on the bed and rubbed at her temples.

She couldn't believe that sentimental fool really ran away as soon Alex mentioned his girl—nevermind the need for a plan and proper arrangements!

But it wasn't Isaac of Vale that gave her a headache.

It was Alex.

Alex willingly let himself to be captured. Surely, he understood that she would retrieve him if he turned himself in.

Was he trying to infiltrate her group? Probably. Was he a legitimate threat though? Yes. He just tricked Isaac to leave!

Her eyes grew wide and she sat up on the bed. Could Alex be a diversion? Could his companions be waiting outside the city? If so, then Isaac and Ivan could be in danger!

No, she reasoned, relaxing and laying back down. Sending people after Isaac would be playing right into Alex's hand. Besides, the Valians were all capable of using destructive magic—they could handle themselves.

If this was a battle of wits, then her immediate threat was Alex who for unknown reasons had offered himself to her as a prisoner. Still, she couldn't unmask him immediately. She remembered facing off against Alex in the valley up north and he'd played her like a fool; pretending to accept her judgment and then using his magic to warp away. If he could teleport at will, then shackles and a simple steel cage couldn't hold him.

Alex was her one connection to the thieves who desired to end the world in flames. There had to be a way to safely neutralize him.

"Yes," said the voice of a child.

She blinked and looked up. She turned around, but couldn't find anyone else in the room.

"There is a way," the child-like voice spoke again.

In a flash, two strange creatures in red and blue emerged from the air above her head.

"There is a way, Mistress…" said the Djinn. "Let us show you."

* * *

It was deep night when she returned to the prison with Igor and Oleg in tow. Igor had brought a food basket and Oleg carried her tools and medicinal supplies. Captain Li wasn't in office at this hour, which made it all the easier to convince his subordinates to let her in. If there was anything Mia had learned about the cities south of Imil it was that almost anything could be solved with silver and gold.

When the prison guards questioned the nightly visit Mia said Alex was sick and needed to be treated now. The guards accepted the explanation, but they still asked to see what was in her basket and equipment box. They went through her belongings but failed to find anything questionable. Once the procedures were done, Mia nodded to Igor and approached the guards with a warm smile.

"I'm grateful that you've taken good care of him," she told the prison guards as Igor lifted the plates of food and bottles of wine out of the basket and placed them on the desk in the staff area. "It isn't much," she said, nodded towards the food, "but I hope you don't mind this small gift."

"N-not at all!" said the guards, starting to laugh like fools. "We're just doing our job, really!"

She smiled again as one of the guards led the way to the area where Alex was held captive.

The traitor was thankfully still in his cage. Alex looked up in confusion when the guard open his cage this time but he didn't say anything.

"Why don't you go enjoy your meal?" said Mia to the prison guard. "I'll send someone to get you once we're done."

The man gave her a sceptical look.

She briefly touched his hand and gave the man another smile.

"Your friends might've finished the food once you get back otherwise," said Mia, briefly touching his hand.

The man swallowed a lump in his throat and gave her a stupid grin. He blabbered something incoherent and then removed himself from the room.

Mia sighed and turned back to Alex who was staring at her with one part question and two parts disgust. His gaze wandered as she stepped into his cage with Oleg and Igor following her. But before the traitor could say anything Mia hit him in the face with her staff and sealed his magic.

"What—?" began Alex angrily, cupping the side of his face, "are you… doing?" His voice faded as Mia opened the box of supplies and withdrew a tray, giving it to Oleg to hold.

"I'm making sure you won't escape again," she replied. Mia retrieved the burning candle from her lantern and placed it on the tray in Oleg's hands.

"I-I'm not running anymore," said Alex.

"But you _can_ escape with your powers, can't you?"

She picked up a clean porcelain bowl from her box and placed it next to the candle on the tray.

"Then what are you going to do?" asked Alex. "Cut off my legs?"

He chuckled, and she couldn't tell whether he was mocking her efforts or challenging her to try.

"Don't be ridiculous," she replied. She retrieved the soup container from Igor's food basket and filled the bowl on the tray.

"Slit the tendons in my limbs?" said Alex.

"I don't have extra people to carry you to Vale," said Mia, mixing a sedative into the soup. Besides, he was a healer and could probably fix his limbs as easily as she could damage them.

"No," she said, reaching into her pocket and taking out an ice pick, "in order to prevent you from escaping… I'll have to change your mind."

* * *

_**Author's notes:**_

You thought things were dark? Well, _now_ things are dark!


	26. – Trouble

**F**elix dragged his feet behind him as he followed the rest of the party on the snowy road. His hands were tucked under his cloak and his brow was covered by the furry brim of his winter cap. As he passed the last trees of the thick woods, he squinted at the sight of the sun peeking behind the steep mountains in the afternoon.

This was Alpine Crossing—the forking road leading to Lamakan Desert and the mining township of Altin. Iron and supplies were regularly transported here, so the place was a common raiding spot for brigands. Even Xianese authority had trouble keeping the raiders away off the road—gods help the unprepared merchants who carried expensive goods in their wagons.

Menardi spearheaded the way into the mountain pass, her new glaive resting on her shoulder as she turned and looked out for ambushes. She still wore a shawl tied around her head to hide her pointed ears. Her new red cloak had a hood sewn in, but she didn't wear it up since it limited her vision.

Kraden rode behind her at a steady pace on his horse, stopping occasionally to check his map. He was having a one way conversation with Jenna. Among many things, Kraden spoke about his king and that Jenna and Felix would be delighted to see Tolbi if they thought Xian was spectacular. He said there was a grand fighting tournament they wouldn't want to miss and that his king approved of magic unlike a majority of the world. He then mentioned about how he longed for a bath and massage after travelling almost nonstop for the last week—even though he'd been on a horse for the entire trip.

"Ah-haha…" said Kraden. "I guess I'm not as springy as I used to be anymore."

Felix sighed. Before leaving Xian, Kraden had promised Jeremy and Solomon would bring Alex to meet up with them later, but they were almost at the desert now and Kraden still refused to tell when they would meet up with their friend, and whenever Felix or Jenna brought it up he'd laugh it off as if they were children worrying for meaningless things.

That day, Jenna and Alex went out to fool around in town again. Around noon, Jenna had come back to the school alone, crying and screaming that bounty hunters were trying to kill Alex. It turned out the Imilian Watch had followed them all the way from the north and now they were hot on Alex's trails.

Felix had begged for help, and Menardi had refused lend a hand. The northlander was furious that they couldn't do something as simple as keeping a low profile. Jenna turned to Kraden for help, and the old man simply gave her a grandfatherly smile while telling her to take a bath and then come out and have dinner.

"Dinner?" said Jenna. She grabbed Kraden's long wide sleeve. "How can you think about food when Alex is being chased through the streets like an animal? We have to help him!"

"And help him I will," replied Kraden with a calming gesture. He then looked to his bodyguards and told them to go to the administrators of the city and iron out the situation nicely. "There, Jenna," he then continued, petting Jenna's shoulder. "All done. Now get inside, take a bath and change out of those sweaty clothes so you don't catch a cold."

Jenna had stared at Kraden's expression for almost a full minute afterwards, but she ultimately gave out a defeated sigh and stomped back indoors. They had no other choice than to trust Kraden. Jeremy and Solomon did leave the school that evening and they still haven't come back, so Kraden didn't seem to be lying. With a small shred of hope of seeing their friend again, Felix and Jenna had turned into docile children who nodded and agreed in every matter. For what could they do? They didn't know where Alex went and they didn't know anyone in Xian.

Now, it's been almost a week and Felix wondered if he hadn't overestimated Kraden and his attendants' abilities.

"Don't use my family to threaten me, witch!" said Jenna suddenly, pulling Felix spirit back to present time with her sharp tone. She hadn't used that insult for a while and Felix wondered for what reason she was fighting with Menardi.

"I don't even trust you to begin with!" snapped Jenna. "If you can just leave Alex and Saturos behind then what will you do with _me and Felix _once the Venus Lighthouse is lit?"

"I am _bound by my vow_ to protect you, ingrate," replied Menardi. She still led the way and didn't even bother to look back to Jenna.

The sister stopped in her tracks and stared after the northlander, closing her hands to fists and before Felix could stop her she was yelling at the top of her lungs:

"_I never asked for your protection!_"

Menardi cringed and then finally turned around.

"Then _release_ me," she replied evenly.

"_What?_"

"Release me from my oath. Then see how much I care if you throw yourself to the wolves afterwards."

"I—don't—need—your—_protection!_"

"You hear that, Felix? I did not break any promises. Your sister refuses to let me protect her."

Jenna folded her arms over her chest and turned her head away in defiance, saying Menardi was as self-righteous as she was cold.

As the northlander turned away and continued to walk, Kraden laughed softly and said Jenna was old enough to make her own decisions. Felix said nothing; Menardi knew he'd rebel if something happened to Jenna. Whether she planned to send her back to Vale or keep protecting her "out of the goodness of her heart", he didn't know, but he knew that Menardi wouldn't risk the mission over senseless pride.

"Ah Jenna!" said Kraden suddenly with an overexcited smile and tone, "look at that!" The old man pointed at a building at the side of the road. "Did you not say you were tired earlier? Let us rest and have dinner at that roadside inn."

Menardi said nothing and picked up her pace, stepping over to the building in sweeping strides. Kraden looked back to Felix and asked whether Menardi always had been this prickly.

"I don't know her that well," said Felix.

"Did you not spend three years in the northlands?"

"I was in a coma for most of that time."

Felix ended the conversation and began heading towards the inn. He could hear Jenna's quick steps behind him and soon she was at his side. She wore thick wools and furs right now, the bags were full of summer clothing.

Under normal circumstances, Lamakan was a cold desert—_frigid_ in winter—but according to Kraden's news sources, the desert had changed since the eruption of Mount Aleph. Like Mogall Prairie and Kolima Forest, Lamakan had become a domain for cursed wildlife and demons and the order of the seasons no longer applied to the desert. Instead of relentless cold, they'd be facing scalding heat and illusions. Kraden said he would've wanted to avoid the desert road, but their next destination was the city Kalay and looping back through the cursed woods of Mogall and Kolima was out of question.

Menardi was a master Fire Adept and capable of many things. She probably already had a plan for dealing with the heat and the illusions, but Felix still worried—Menardi was one person. Powerful as she might be, she couldn't be everywhere at the same time.

"Jenna," said Felix, looking to his sister, "have you thought about learning advanced Psynergy from Menardi?"

Jenna snorted and readjusted the straps of her backpack.

"As if _she'd_ teach me," she replied.

"Have you asked?"

"No."

"Then how do you know she'd refuse?"

"She _hates_ me—are you blind?"

Jenna picked up her pace and moved ahead and Felix sighed. As they entered the inn, familiar faces greeted them from the first table in the common room.

Solomon and Jeremy were eating steamed buns as Menardi approached the table.

"Where's the owner of the place?" she asked, staring down at Kraden's guards.

Felix cast a wide look around in the room; he couldn't see another person here either. As Jenna took a step towards the table, she stepped on something that sounded like broken glass. Looking down, Felix noticed the wooden splinters and broken ceramic on the floor as if the innkeeper hadn't properly cleaned up after an accident. There were also some dark smears on the ground that resembled dried blood.

Solomon stuffed the rest of his bread piece in his mouth, chewed, took a sip from his cup and then swallowed his food. He pointed back behind him with his thumb. Jeremy nodded and his brother then rose from the table and exited the inn. Felix followed Solomon with his look and watched him head out of the door to greet his Master Kraden and take care of the horse.

"Jeremiah," said Menardi with a sullen look.

"Hm?" replied Kraden's assistant with his mouth full of food.

"What happened here? Where are the owner and his staff?"

"Oh, we drove him and his companions away," Jeremy then replied. He reached for another steamed bun but it flew from the plate like a snowball and towards Menardi who caught it with a swift downward gesture.

"Explain," said Menardi, raising the white bread above her shoulder with the first three digits of her left hand.

"They were thieves in disguise," said Jeremy. He tried to take another bun from the plate but it flew out of his reach and right into Menardi's palm.

"They were preying on unsuspecting merchants on the road," said Jeremy and shrugged his shoulders. "The usual drug-your-food-and-murder-you-in-your-sleep-scheme."

Menardi narrowed her eyes, but Jeremy's expression didn't change. She turned away and silently stepped over to one of the windows, cracked open the casement and then leaned against the wall to start eating the food she'd snatched from under Jeremy's nose.

Kraden brushed off the snow from his clothes and stepped through the doorway. Jeremy hurried to stand up and greet his master, gesturing to the old man to sit. Even though he tried to be discreet about it, Felix saw Jeremy slip Kraden his closed wax tablet, which the old man slipped into the pocket of his winter coat.

"Where's Alex?" asked Jenna finally. "Jerry, Kraden said you'd find Alex for us. So where is he?"

The servant pointed towards the stairs and before he could even confirm the message, Jenna had rushed upstairs calling Alex's name. Kraden let out a faint chuckle as his servant grabbed a clean cup from the table and poured up wine for his master. Menardi simply rolled her eyes and kept eating in silence while Felix excused himself to check on his sister and his friend.

The stairs and floorboards creaked as he made his way upstairs—the building was in desperate need of renovation. Upon noticing the first door in the corridor standing open, he headed in there.

The room and furniture were simple but clean and Alex sat on the bed with his back against the wall and his knees pulled up towards his chest. His arms looped around his bent legs and he stared at the mattress with a vacant expression as Jenna approached him.

"Alex?" said the sister. She sat down on the side of the bed and worriedly tapped the Water Adept's hands.

Alex merely blinked his eyes. Felix couldn't tell whether it was a response or not.

"Alex…" said Felix, slowly approaching the bed as the staircase creaked outside the room.

The friend kept staring at the bed with a hollow look. He was spiritually hurt—that much was clear—but what happened?

"Alex, what's wrong?" whispered Felix. He climbed onto the bed, seated next to his friend and placed a hand on Alex's shoulder. "Tell me what's wrong…"

Alex let out a small puff of air. This was exactly how he was after he found in the ditch again… Felix turned to Jenna who was staring at Alex's vacant expression with tears in her eyes. She reached out and grabbed one of Alex's hands, her tears drawing wet paths on her cheeks as she closed her eyes and let out a sob.

"I'm _sorry_," she said, digging her fingers into Alex's spindly arm. "Alex, I'm sorry. I… I shouldn't have—"

"Ah, here he is…" said Kraden as he entered the room with Jeremy. "I was worried…"

Jenna shuddered and immediately straightened her back. She let out another half-sob, angrily wiped the tears on her face, and then turned to Jeremy and the old man.

"What did you do to him?" she asked, almost yelling as she glared at Jeremy.

"I didn't do anything," replied the servant. "He's been like this ever since we rescued him from Xian. Possibly trauma after torture."

"_Torture?_" said Jenna.

Jeremy briefly looked to Kraden, who gave him a nod.

"We were tasked to retrieve him, but…"

Jeremy paused and looked to Kraden again.

"_But?_" demanded Jenna.

Felix could only stare at Jeremy in shock and disbelief.

"Just tell them what they need to know," said Kraden.

"The night we went to break him out of prison, we found him stumbling out of the administration centre by himself. He was screaming incoherently and flailing his arms like a madman and bleeding from one of his eyes."

Felix tore his gaze away from Jeremy and turned back to Alex. He wiped his hand in the air in front of the friend's face.

Alex's eyes narrowed slightly and he turned his face away. He opened his lips slightly and weakly mouthed something for himself. Felix gently squeezed his friend's shoulder and Alex lowered his face to his knees. Finally, Jenna put her arms around Alex and hugged him. She told him he didn't have to be scared anymore and that he was safe. At first, Alex didn't react, but as Jenna continued to whisper words of comfort, he finally let out a strangled caw and began to miserably laugh and weep at the same time.

Kraden and Jeremy turned away to leave the Adepts alone when Menardi suddenly barged in with her glaive in hand.

"The bandits you geniuses drove away are back, and they brought friends—at least forty men are on their way here! Gather your stuff and hurry out of the backdoor before they arrive."

"But our horses are at the front—"

"Your horse or _your_ _life_, old man?" asked Menardi. "Felix, move, _now!_"

Menardi and the Tolbians quickly headed out and downstairs and Felix didn't wait long before he began to urge Jenna and Alex to hurry along as well. He cracked open the window to see whether Menardi was exaggerating or not but it seemed she was understating the numbers as an entire horde of angry men armed with sharpened steel were on the way. Those thieves really wanted their inn back badly.

Yet, Alex refused to move. Even though he was being yelled at and dragged down to the floor by Jenna, he refused to stand up.

"Alex, come on!" said Jenna. "Do you _want_ us to leave you?"

"Leave me," whispered Alex.

Hearing loud bangs and crashes downstairs, Felix grabbed Alex's feet and told Jenna to take his hands. They began carrying him out of the room and down the stairs. Menardi had moved all the furniture to barricade the door and she stood in front of the staircase with her glaive ready for battle. She cast a brief look back towards the young Adepts and her slightly annoyed expression immediately became an enraged scowl.

She let out a shriek, cursing her life and luck and she raised her hands up in the air. Meeting the younger Adepts on the middle of the staircase, she tossed her polearm into Felix's arms and then hauled Alex onto her back and carried him towards the backdoor.

Felix gripped the glaive and stared at it in confusion. When the bandits began to bash on the door, he stumbled down the stairs and hurried to the backdoor as quickly as possible. When outside, he could see Kraden and his assistants already far down on the road, fleeing quicker than anyone else.

Menardi let out a string of profanity when the bandits noticed them and began to pursue. She dropped Alex to the ground and yanked her weapon back from Felix. With a thundering roar and a broad swipe of her glaive she summoned a line of explosions on the ground, sending the first line of enemies off their feet.

Felix went to secure Alex and Jenna to Kraden's guards—Menardi could handle herself. He tried to piggyback Alex the way Menardi did, but it wasn't easy; he never thought someone as frail-looking as Alex could be so heavy! He ran towards the western path, hoping to lose the bandits but as he drew closer he heard the clashing of swords ahead as well. The Tolbians were fighting a smaller group of thieves who'd obviously been positioned here to intercept fleeing victims.

Solomon and Jeremy fought side by side, cutting down the bandits one by one as Kraden hid behind a rock, pointing and shouting at his men.

"Felix!" said Jenna. "Look out!"

She let out a scream and thrust her palms out, trapping the bandit who'd appeared next to Felix in a vortex of flames. As the bandit screamed in panic, Felix's chest constricted and he dropped Alex on the ground.

The company of thieves had scattered around Menardi and the burning bodies at her feet. His vision blurred and his world became a canvas of black and red. Fire. All he saw was fire and the shadows of men and women fighting and falling to the ground.

"Help…" Felix cried out weakly, turning around left and right with unfocused eyes. "Help!"

_BAMM!_

Felix let out a panicked scream as an explosion from above deafened his ears.

_BA-BAMM!_

Felix lost his breath as he stared upwards to the mountain wall in wide-eyed shock. The top of that peak crumbled from the fiery blasts above and a mass of rocks and snow began to fall down to the mountain pass. He took a shaky step back but tripped and fell backwards. As he hit the ground, he heard someone calling his name in the distance. Lightning crashed. He heard Isaac's voice shout his name in the thundering rain and the cracking of a branch in the night. And then there was darkness… Darkness and cold.

"_Felix!_"

He blinked and shuddered, his vision focusing on a worried face. The blue-eyed stranger with messy brown hair shook Felix's shoulders and then slapped his cheek.

"_Aah!_" Felix drew a quick breath and shoved Alex away in surprise, but regretted his action the second after. "Oh Alex, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—!"

He looked at the pile of rocks, boulders and snow that now blocked the mountain passage in front of him, his gaze tracing the roadblock up towards the peaks—they had both been one step away from being buried alive or worse.

"Jenna..." Felix then whispered, panic rising again as he couldn't find his sister in the area. He stood up on his knees and his eyes then focused on the heap of rocks and snow. "_Jenna!_"

"Felix!"

A pair of arms wrapped around his neck and pulled his head against a warm chest before he could sink his fingers into the snow. Felix let out a relieved cry and hugged his sister back. They were safe now—all of them.

"Felix!" said Alex, pulling him and Jenna back as something under the snow began to glow. One second later, a pale hand with a fading flame burst out from the pile of snow.

"_Menardi!_" shouted Felix.

"_What?_" asked the northlander.

Felix turned around in confusion and found Menardi sitting against the mountain wall. Her robes were singed and stained with blood and she was mending her injuries with Psynergy.

Turning back to the snow-pile, he found that Jenna and Alex had dug the buried person out from the snow. Saturos had seen far better days. If he wasn't already dressed in rags before then he was now—most of his clothing had been burned away and he was covered in soot and snow.

"Hi," he said with an awkward smile and then involuntarily shivered, throwing his arms about himself. "Nice fire there, girl," he then said. "You got me good."

Jenna ignored the fact that the man she's immolated earlier was Saturos and instead questioned why the hell he was here in the first place.

"Didn't you say you'd join a group of performers?" she questioned.

"Performers?" said Menardi. "Seems like the moron joined up with the bandits!"

Saturos struggled to even stand on his knees. As Felix covered him with his cloak, the former mentor shuddered and then replied:

"Br-brigands and _me_? I was asked to help _removing_ brigands from the road!"

"What brigands are _you_ talking about?" said Menardi.

"The foreign bastards who stole an inn from some law-abiding townspeople!"

Menardi's mouth let out a breathy laugh as she closed her robes.

"Unbelievable," she said, picking up her glaive from the ground and standing up to look down at Saturos. "Kraden's retainers drove bandits off and _you_ decided to help them reclaim their territory? How gullible _are_ you?"

Saturos made a face as Alex began to rub a healing hand over his burns.

"I-I…" he began, but then closed his mouth and shook his head. He wrapped Felix's cloak about himself as soon Alex was done healing and then stood up, searching with his hand for support. "Have it in your way," he muttered, "goodbye."

"Wait! Where are you going?" asked Jenna, grabbing Saturos's arm.

"_Away_," drawled Saturos, yanking his arm back. "To pillage another village."

"The road is blocked! Why don't you just join back with us again?"

Felix blinked and stared at his sister. Did the sun just rise in the west? Out of all people, _Jenna_ was the person who wanted Saturos back in the group?

"_Why?_" asked Menardi, raising her voice. "He can't even _see_!" She shook her head and sighed, placing her free hand on her forehead. "Merciful Contigo… Don't we have enough useless mouths to feed?"

"_Who_ are you calling useless?" said Jenna.

"You and your useless friends!" retorted Menardi, bashing the shaft of her glaive against the ground and causing a melodic ring in the earth. "This alliance with Kraden was only meant for Felix and I, and I would've _freed_ your brother once his part is done! But _you_ had to tag along instead of talking some sense into your precious friends who might _still_ be on our trails!"

Jenna opened and closed her mouth, but then turned her head away with directed her gaze look to the ground.

"Um, about your Isaac…" Alex mumbled, looking to Jenna.

"_Alex_," continued Menardi, "you pitiful fool,_ why_ are you here?"

"Wha—? I—"

"If you understood the severity of our mission, you'd have gone into hiding instead of needlessly bringing us the attentions of your persistent girl!"

Alex lowered his head to his shoulders and Felix put a comforting hand on his back.

"And _you_, Felix—"

"_Hey!_" said Jenna. "Are we going to listen to you insulting everyone in the world or find a place to rest? Most of our stuff was in the _saddlebags_ and now we don't have any food because _you_ dropped half of the mountain on the road!"

"You—"

"Menardi," said Kraden. "For once, I agree with Jenna. Alex's Water Psynergy is necessary for crossing the desert, and another Fire Adept could lessen your burden with controlling the heat."

"_SEE?_"

* * *

_**Author's note:**_

I didn't really want this extra chapter, but I felt I had to add it if only to illustrate the situation of what happened in Alpine Crossing since the next chapter brings us to Altin with Feizhi.


	27. – Beginnings

**I**t was the last day of July. Yes, Isaac remembered that fateful day—how could he forget?

The weather was calm and the sun stood high. The birds chirped among green branches and flowers bloomed on the sides of the road. A food-basket containing freshly baked scones dangled under Isaac's left arm and his right hand grasped a bouquet of fresh wildflowers. Guided by a small butterfly, he followed the road to the green fields west of the village where the shepherds tended to their livestock.

Jenna rested on the hill, her face in the shade of a wide-brimmed straw hat in the sun. Garet sat next to her and they chatted and laughed together, waving to Isaac when they saw him approaching on the road.

"Hey, Isaac!" they said. "Over here!"

Isaac stuffed his flowers into the food basket and picked up his pace, the old yellow scarf thrown around his shoulders whipping his back as he started to run. Reaching the hill, he approached his friends with a forced smile.

"So, what were you talking about?" he asked as he began unpacking the food. He handed Garet a piece of bread—the friend was odd in the way that he didn't like them with sweetener, unlike the rest of his family.

"About you, of course," said the Fire Adept. "You know the annual recruitment of the temple is coming up next month right? Hah-ha, Jenna asked me to go easy on you this—"

"_Garet!_" snapped Jenna, glaring at the friend.

Isaac pursed his lips and exhaled with a smile. He didn't detest Garet's company, but he wished the friend didn't bring the worst topics with him for every single conversation.

"You won't be my opponent this year," said Isaac, opening a jar of honey and adding the sweetener on the remaining scones with a spoon before offering them to Jenna. "Harald knows we've been sparring for the last two months."

"Oh, you're right."

"By the way," added Isaac as he sealed the jar of honey and handed it to his friend. "Give this to Aunt Magda. She mentioned running out last week."

Garet accepted the jar, and looked at it for a while. He then asked why Isaac didn't just come over and handed it his mother himself.

"Everyone misses you and Aunt Dora," said Garet. "Why don't you come over for dinner more often?"

"Once a week isn't often enough?" asked Isaac with an incredulous look. He then averted his eyes, realizing how indignant he sounded.

He'd relied on Garet's family ever since the tempest took his father's life and had only started becoming independent in the recent year. Isaac appreciated Uncle Hans and Aunt Magda's help and care, but he was a man now; he couldn't keep relying on them as if he still was a boy.

_"Mm! _Your baking ish improving!" said Jenna, delighted. She finished chewing and swallowed the food, complimenting his baking and thanking him for helping her grandfather with the bees yesterday.

Something began pricking under the skin of Isaac's face. He almost reached an arm around Jenna, but ultimately let his hand sink to the grass. He remembered sitting with Jenna on the suspension bridge last harvest season and sharing the bread he'd recently learnt baking. That day she took his hands and looked deeply into his eyes, telling him she wished to enjoy his baking every day. Isaac had consistently brought her lunch ever since. He smiled bitterly, curling his fingers around tall grass as he averted his eyes to the basket where his wildflowers still lay.

He later took the flowers with him to the memorial near the river. Captain Kyle, Ralf and Hannah, Magnus the Smith, Herbalist Tryggvi, Priest Arvid and the other members of the temple who ventured north to try stopping the landslide; so many heroes perished in the tempest. Yet, Isaac found himself missing Felix the most.

Jenna didn't cry that day they visited the monument—she'd cried all her tears away long ago. She left after saying her prayers like everyone else.

Isaac however, stayed and silently scattered his wildflowers into the river from the bridge. He wasn't stupid enough to truly misunderstand Jenna's words last year, but he couldn't bring himself to accept her proposal even though he loved her back.

Had Isaac jumped into the water and saved Felix, maybe he'd still be alive. Had he grabbed Felix's hand and pulled him out of the river, Felix and Uncle Ralf wouldn't have to die. Hadn't Isaac stumbled on the bridge and pushed Felix into the river, Jenna's family wouldn't have died! The guilt kept piling up and it finally materialized as silent tears that drew paths on his cheeks. And then he sobbed and cried, as the tears only served to remind him of how weak he truly was—he was sixteen, _seventeen_ almost, and he still cried like the forlorn child Felix found on the suspension bridge one rainy September night.

He'd sworn to follow his father's footsteps and make him proud. And he promised Felix that he'd protect him when he grew up. He single-handedly robbed the people of Vale of two of its best men and protectors. The least he could do was keeping his promises and serve the people in their stead.

It was the last day of July. That late summer afternoon—that fateful day—Isaac accompanied Jenna to Kraden's cottage. Jenna liked art and poetry and the stories of old, so Isaac wanted to at least pretend that he was interested in learning. Kraden did help him improve on his writing, so Isaac got something out of the visits at least.

But then they encountered those strange pilgrims who seemed like they were up to no good. One was an armoured woman with startling red eyes and the other was the masked fool who ran into Isaac on the plaza and ruined his bouquet. The pilgrims didn't say anything and simply walked past the Adepts, but they gave Jenna strange looks as if they knew something about her that Isaac did not.

"Why were they looking at me like that?" asked Jenna, her voice tinged with question as her gaze followed the pilgrims as they left.

"Don't mind them," Isaac told her, taking her hand and sliding his fingers in-between hers. "Let's go find Kraden," he said with a reassuring smile.

The old scribe was usually very eager when Isaac and Jenna came over to learn poetry and writing. But Kraden was very distant that day and said he wasn't in the mood to teach. Isaac apologized for disturbing him and said they'd leave, but Jenna wanted to know why Kraden seemed so restless. Eventually, she made him spill about the strangers having threatened him.

Kraden said they wanted to get into Sol Sanctum and that they wanted him as a guide, having heard he'd visited the ruins once before. Outraged, Jenna and Isaac wanted to report them to the temple, but Kraden stopped them, saying it would be his word against the pilgrims' and in the end he'd be thrown out of the village regardless. It sounded extreme, but Kraden's worries weren't unfounded. The priests believed they were above others and had no patience for troublemakers. If Sol Sanctum's safety was threatened they would first imprison or banish every visitor in the village and investigate later; nothing was as sacred as their vows.

"If only we could somehow stop the thieves," said Kraden. He then looked to Isaac. "If we could catch them red-handed, surely the High Priest won't have a choice but to believe us, don't you think?"

And that was all it took to convince Isaac that catching the temple robbers themselves was a good idea. Isaac couldn't remember every step of his great plan, but he remembered vouching for Kraden when he requested permission to visit Sol Sanctum to study the art in the old temple. Harald had approved the visit since he was delighted that Kyle's son showed interest in studying the legacy of the Saints. Garet was sent to accompany them as a guide—the priests wouldn't ever let anyone near the gates of Sol Sanctum without supervision.

The road to Sol Sanctum had never been a quick climb; over seven thousands steps awaited the wilful pilgrim who desired to pay respect to the Saints. That journey was made nigh impossible after the tempest since the landslide collapsed the stairs leading straight to the temple's main entrance. Now, the only way of accessing Sol Sanctum was to navigate through the maze at the foot of Mount Aleph, and for that a guide was required.

Garet was oblivious of Isaac's plan of rigging a trap for the treacherous pilgrims, believing Isaac was simply trying to impress Jenna. And as they traversed the dark maze, Isaac almost forgot about his task as well, being amazed by the paintings and inscriptions on the walls. Each masterpiece told the story of a hero who made a sacrifice in ending the last Alchemy War. The Ancient Heroes—their likeness and stories were all immortalised here. He was left staring at the art, watching the pictures glow in vivid colours and staying luminous even after the group has left the area with the light. Finally, he understood why Kraden was so obsessed with the ruins.

After a long journey with many twists and turns and ascension of stairs, Isaac finally found himself in front of a stone wall with a relief depicting a squad of soldiers charging into battle against an unknown foe. Garet scorched the wall with flames and his Psynergy revealed a glowing etching of an enormous minotaur ready to crush the puny humans in the picture. He then took out a key from his pocket, pushed it into the minotaur's eye and turned it. The large jewel adorning the bow of the key shone bright green and the minotaur vanished with the sound of grinding stone; the hidden gate to Sol Sanctum swinging open before their eyes.

It was here Isaac finally told his oblivious friend about his stupid plan, and Garet had understandably wanted to report him. Isaac didn't need to defeat Garet in a duel to stop him from turning him in, but he would've fought Garet without a doubt if he had to. He said he wanted to prove that the temple was wrong in rejecting him and Jenna. He said Garet was afraid of Isaac outshining him if they succeeded catching the thieves themselves. And so Garet grudgingly stayed as the group explored the temple, visiting the marble altar of the old gods and entering the mosaic halls where the Saints supposedly dined together for the first and final time.

Isaac climbed to the main entrance of the temple where the evening sun gilded the peak. He looked out from the height of Mount Aleph, taking in the magnificent view. From here he could see his entire village and further than he'd ever seen. Beyond the Valian River there were forests and roads, rivers, lakes and hills, settlements and villages and maybe even a city. In that very moment, when fresh winds lifted Isaac's hair and stroked his face, he felt an urge for adventure and a longing feeling he couldn't describe with words. He didn't know how long he stood there, staring at the sky and the clouds, but one thing he understood: He finally understood why Felix wanted to leave the village so badly despite the power and status he'd been promised as Harald's successor.

Isaac's goal was to ambush the thieves at the gates, catching them in the act and apprehending them at the same time. But then Kraden began messing with the artefacts and switches in the temple. Garet told the old man to stay put, but Kraden acted like a child and snuck away alone. Jenna didn't want her teacher to get hurt so everyone grudgingly split up to look for the old man.

"What if he springs a trap?" said Jenna. "He's not an Adept."

Isaac eventually found Kraden standing in front of the magically sealed door that supposedly guarded the final resting place of the Elemental Stars. The old man wasn't an Adept so he couldn't unlock it on his own, but he convinced _Isaac_ to open the Vault of the Stars. Kraden told him they should secure the relics in case the thieves brought more allies. He said the priests would move the Elemental Stars back to the Temple of Vale regardless and that if Isaac desired a position among the templars this was his chance to prove his worth.

Reminded of the humiliation he suffered in last year's recruitment trial and enticed by the rewards, Isaac disregarded the risks and opened the gate. And so Jenna was kidnapped and three of the Elemental Stars were stolen away; Felix tricked him and then abandoned him in collapsing ruins.

Isaac lost.

He took a chance and he lost.

And he lost everything.

* * *

He opened his eyes as his nightmare finally ended, feeling arms draped around his shoulders and comforting warmth underneath his body. Isaac felt a soft hand stroking the back of his neck and another gently cradling his head in the warm light. The wind roared outside the tent and the small candle in the steel lantern cast sharp shadows inside. Isaac felt a warm buzzing feeling in his chest as Ivan weaved his fingers into his hair. He brushed a shy smile against Ivan's tunic and closed his eyes, but upon hearing Ivan's low cheerful giggle Isaac realized how inappropriate his behaviour was. His eyes grew tall and he stifled a gasp, abruptly propping himself up with his hands. He stared at Ivan confused expression for a second and then retreated to his side of the tent, turning away from the boy while wiping the rest of the spit from the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry," he said, half-whispering as his cheeks began to burn in shame and humiliation. "I move around in sleep."

"That's no news to me," replied Ivan calmly, allowing an awkward silence to settle for a while.

"You're cold," the boy then whispered, closing the distance between them and tossing the warm blankets to cover Isaac's body once more. "Did you have a nightmare?" Ivan wrapped his arms around Isaac's chest while pressing his nose against the back of his neck. "Isaac?"

Isaac shook his head, straightened himself as he drew a deep breath. Ivan caught his hands and laced their fingers together.

"You talked in your sleep," said Ivan. "Are you all right?"

Isaac clenched his teeth and turned around, closing his arms around Ivan and tucking the boy's head under his chin.

"What did you hear?" he then asked, burying his nose in Ivan's hair and grasping a handful of the golden strands with a gentle hand.

Ivan breathed out calmly against his chest, carefully repositioning his hands to cradle Isaac's shoulders.

"Felix," he then replied. "Felix, no. Please, don't leave me."

Hearing those familiar words, Isaac's hold around Ivan tightened and he bit his lower lip. Images of his dream once again flooded his mind; how he ran towards the exit of Sol Sanctum's vault while screaming Felix's name. How the floor crumbled under his weight and he fell into dark water below. How fires in the depths glowed like amber as the water rose to scalding temperatures to boil him alive...

He let out a choked breath as something began pricking his eyes and nose, but he made the attempt to control his breathing. When Ivan's aura of Psynergy flashed, Isaac debated in his mind whether he wanted to tell the little Wind Adept to stop, but then the boy gently nuzzled him and began stroking his back. And the moment he spoke Isaac's name so softly, Isaac stopped fighting and gave in.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, taking in the pleasant scent of wool and pines in Ivan's hair and welcoming the warmth of his Psynergy. Then, he emptied his heart to Ivan and told him everything without uttering a single word.

And Ivan cradled him in his arms, never returning a single phrase as he listened and soaked up all of Isaac's bitter regrets and fears.

* * *

Altin was a small town built next to a mountain ridge, which was significant for it's riches of minerals. The population made a living out of mining and trading iron and coal and the town had been under the administration of Xianese authority for more than a century, Ivan had told him. That explained why the men guarding the city wall dressed in red and black uniform, Isaac supposed.

As the Adepts approached the gate in the late afternoon, the black-haired gatekeepers stopped them and studied Isaac with judging looks. Isaac sighed as the interrogation began.

"From where do you come?" asked the first guard. Isaac could see his companion in the back holding a large piece of paper, his gaze flicking back and forth from the paper and Isaac's face.

"My name is Isaac. I come from the village of Vale."

"It's not him," said the other guard, folding up his paper.

The first guard nodded and then looked to Isaac, asking him whether he could hold his own in a fight.

The Earth Adept raised an eyebrow. He gripped Ivan's little hand, entwining their fingers, and Ivan cast Mindread.

"So many innocent deaths this week," the guard thought for himself. "Why do people even visit this place?"

"Is there trouble?" asked Isaac. "My brother and I came a long way…"

"I'm not denying you entrance," replied the guard, "but Altin isn't exactly a safe place after demons from the mountains appeared and flooded the city. Since November, all citizens and visitors have to bear arms."

"D-demons?" said Ivan, timidly stepping behind Isaac and hugging the Earth Adept's arm.

"Yes," said the guard with a tired sigh, looking away. "Water demons, to be exact," he added in thought. "We just cleaned out last of them and drained the town last week," he then said, "but who knows if they come back. Tell me you at least have weapons."

Isaac lifted his sword.

"This is good enough?"

"That will do," said the guard, "if you see anything suspicious, tell someone in uniform and we'll see to it."

As they passed the gate and entered the town, Ivan stopped using Mindread. Isaac noticed that many buildings were covered in rime and frost and even thick sheets of ice. Some structures had been torn by large ice spikes protruding from the walls—it looked unnatural, and the townsfolk were busy carving their homes out from the ice. Heavily dressed in the cold winter day, they shovelled snow and transported around wheelbarrows full of frost and dirt. Outside one particularly large building, Isaac found a group of people handing out blankets and serving steaming hot porridge to seemingly homeless people.

Isaac briefly looked towards Ivan, who eyed at the food and bit his lower lip. They hadn't eaten since yesterday. He tugged Ivan closer to him and gave the boy a small smile.

"Let's go find somewhere to eat and rest," he said. He looked around and approached a man wearing a scarf and pushing a wheelbarrow on the road, asking him for direction to the nearest inn.

"The Flying Phoenix Inn is up that hill in the north. It's one of the few places that was spared from the flood.

"Thank you," said Isaac.

"No problem," replied the man. He threw his scarf around his mouth and then continued his work.

Isaac looked back to Ivan with a reassuring smile and then headed further into town, although he wondered if the Psynergy stones and dust from Mount Aleph were responsible for the monster attacks in this area too. If so, then this was another sin added to—

"Isaac," whispered Ivan, brushing his face against his arm.

Isaac exhaled as he looked to the boy. He showed appreciation with a slight nod as they approached the houses atop the hill.

The Flying Phoenix Inn was a large and crowded place—people needed temporary houseroom while their homes were being repaired. A pleasant scent of tea and mixed foods greeted Isaac at the entrance and he pursed his lips and swallowed the excess saliva in his mouth. He could swear that he heard Ivan's stomach growl as well—neither of them had eaten anything since the supplies ran out yesterday. The plan was to reach Lama Temple today, but that unexpected roadblock had forced a change of plans. He heard from some farmers in the region that a couple of sorcerers did it after a mob tried to lynch them for the murder of the young couple who owned the roadside inn. And Isaac only knew one person outside of Vale who was powerful enough to shake the earth and move a mountain.

He gripped Ivan's hand tighter and laced their fingers together, approaching the dark-haired and moustachioed man reading a book behind the counter. The innkeeper paused in his reading and looked at Isaac with weary eyes.

"More travellers…" the man thought for himself. "How many of them do I have to turn away?"

"Hello," began Isaac. "I'd like a room—"

"No room," said the innkeeper before the Earth Adept could finish. He then pointed towards the door. "There is a sign outside. Can't you read?"

Isaac drew in half a breath, but Ivan tugged his arm and stepped ahead before he could spit fire at the man.

"Um... can we sleep in the common room then?" he asked timidly. "Please, we just need a roof over our heads for the night." Ivan leaned against Isaac's arm. "Please… we have money to pay for it."

"No, no, no!" said the innkeeper, waving his hands. "You're the third person to ask this question today and the answer is still no."

"We won't cause any trouble," Ivan insisted. "It's so cold outside and we're so tired. Please Mister," he begged in a squeaky voice. "Anywhere is fine. We'll pay full price—"

"I don't have _any_ room," repeated the innkeeper, calling Isaac and Ivan stupid foreigners in his mind. "What do you want me to do? Throw the other guests out to make room for you?"

"That isn't what I mean…" said Ivan, letting his head sink down towards his shoulders.

Isaac protectively put his arms around the boy and glared at the man, saying he didn't need to scare the child. The innkeeper shook his head with a look of disdain, though he expressed regret in his mind.

"Uncle Xu," a female voice then suddenly sounded from the staircase and the caught the innkeeper's attention.

"Ah'zi," said the innkeeper, looking to the lavender-haired woman dressed in blue and green. "Good to see you. Well, these two foreigners want housing and don't seem to understand that I don't have any to offer."

The young woman turned her gaze to the Adepts.

"Uncle Xu, look at them. They seem to have travelled very far. Surely you have someplace to let them sleep in," she said. "How about the toolshed?"

"_Toolshed_? You're _kidding_, right?"

Ivan sniffled and pressed his face against Isaac's chest. He was faking, Isaac could tell, but he decided to play along and stay quiet—a toolshed might be draughty but it was still a roof over his head.

The young woman averted her eyes for a moment.

"How about you let them have _my_ room?" she then said.

Isaac blinked to attention and stared at the girl in surprise.

"Ah'zi…" she the innkeeper, but the young woman raised a hand and said she'd made up her mind.

"I can find housing elsewhere for tonight," she said.

The innkeeper shook his head and opened his records, flipping through the pages. The girl then looked to Isaac, asking him if Ivan was all right. Her green eyes smiled and Isaac's words of gratitude were suddenly stuck in his throat.

"Ah-haha," she then laughed heartily and looked to Ivan. "Don't be scared, little brother," she said. "Uncle Xu isn't like this normally. The workload's been keeping his mind on edge."

"What's your name, Mister?" asked the innkeeper.

"I-Isaac," Isaac replied with difficulty, tearing his gaze away from the young woman.

"_Yi_ Shak, huh…" said the innkeeper. "All right, Mister Yi, your room is the second to the left in the right corridor."

"Thank you!" said Ivan. He quenched his Psynergy and clasped his hands, bowing his head in expression of gratitude.

"Don't thank me," said the innkeeper. "If you want to thank someone, thank Miss Fei Zilian."

"Thank you, Miss Feishi Lan," said Isaac.

The girl laughed.

"It's Fei Zilian."

"Feisi Lan?" said Isaac.

The girl cringed.

"Fei _Zi Lian_," she enunciated.

"Fei Zhi Li-Anne." Isaac looked past the girl's shoulder and saw the innkeeper stifle a laugh. "Feizhi Lian?"

The girl closed her eyes and let out a breathy embarrassed laugh.

"Close enough," she said.

"Sorry…" said Isaac, averting his eyes and instinctively wrapping his arms around Ivan's shoulders from behind. "I'm… kind of illiterate." Without even realizing, he'd buried his chin is Ivan's hair.

"Oh…" said Feizhi, looking at him with pity. "Don't worry, a lot of outlanders have trouble pronouncing the local names."

Isaac's illiteracy seemed to have thrown her off and she turned to the innkeeper for a moment.

"So, have you eaten yet?" she then asked with a wide grin.

Ivan shook his head and pitifully put his arms about his stomach.

Feizhi looked at the Adepts with sympathy and then turned to the innkeeper.

"Uncle Xu, bring me the stir fry noodles and some nice hot tea!" She then turned back to Ivan. "Do you like tofu pudding, little brother?"

"Uh…" said Isaac, hesitantly averting his eyes towards Ivan.

The boy shyly nodded.

"Add two bowls of tofu puddings to the list, too," said Feizhi.

The innkeeper shook his head with a smile.

"I'll tell the kitchen staff to prepare it and bring it out," he said.

"Thank you so much, Uncle Xu!" said Feizhi. "Come, Brother Yi, let's sit over there."

"Brother… Yi?" Isaac asked as he was being shown to the nearest table in the common room.

"Ah, it's an expression of respect." Feizhi smiled and scratched the area below her right ear. "If you don't like it—"

"N-no, it's fine!" said Isaac, hurriedly waving his hands. "I was just curious."

He seated at the table, taking off his backpack with a groan and stretching his neck and shoulders. Ivan sat down next to him and Feizhi placed her sword on the side of the table. The red scabbard looked rather fancy and the ornate hilt had a red tassel attached to the pommel. As Isaac studied the girl's clothing, he could tell that Feizhi was a rich girl—her clothing seemed to be made out of shiny patterned silk and trimmed with fancy embroidery. She wore pearl earrings, her hair was partially wound up in a bun on top of her head with the rest falling past her shoulders, and she wore hair-decorations in the form of golden flowers and silver leaves.

"Ah, I still don't know your name, little brother," said Feizhi, looking to Ivan.

"My name is Ivan."

"Yi Wan," said Feizhi, looking to Isaac. "Oh, so you're _actually_ brothers!"

Ivan looked to Isaac, hesitant and pleading with his worried expression.

"Of course," said Isaac. He threw an arm around Ivan's shoulders and drew the boy close to his side. He rubbed the side of Ivan's arm affectionately and forced a broad smile to his lips. "Don't you see the resemblance?"

It sounded incredible forced, Isaac figured, and Feizhi laughed.

"I am adopted," said Ivan, directing his gaze to the table while closing his hands tightly on his lap.

"We only have each other," Isaac added. He brushed down some unruly strands on the top of the boy's head and Ivan bashfully lowered his chin towards his chest.

The innkeeper returned to the common room and placed a large plate of mixed vegetables, meat and noodles on the table. He gave the patrons each a small bowl and chopsticks and Isaac expressed his gratitude with a polite "thank you".

Innkeeper Xu nodded and told him the tea and dessert was on the way. When Isaac looked back, Feizhi was already filling her bowl with food, telling the Adepts to help themselves. Isaac hesitantly took his and Ivan bowls and clumsily filled them using the chopsticks. Ivan thanked him after being given his food and Isaac gave him a smile before digging in.

The food was cooked well and delicious; it was way better than anything he'd had for the last few months. The tangy sauce brought out the flavour of the leafy vegetables and noodles and soon he was crudely slurping his food like some caveman. He only remembered his table manners when he needed a refill and froze with his bowl still shielding the lower half of his face. Feizhi wasn't judging and simply told him to refill from the plate if he wanted more.

"I tell you, Brother Yi," said Feizhi. "They make the best food in Altin here, so if you have time, you should definitely try the meat buns and dumplings too!"

Isaac smiled and he continued to eat from the main dish. He certainly wouldn't mind if he had the money. The waiter then came to their table to deliver the tea and the dessert, placing two bowls of cream white pudding covered with syrup on the table. Ivan grabbed one of the bowls and started eating it with a smile.

"By the way," Feizhi continued as the waiter distributed the three lidded teacups, "from which way did you come?"

"Xian," replied Isaac.

"Really? Did you run into any trouble on your way?" she asked. "There's a dangerous warlock down Alpine Crossing."

"A warlock?" asked Isaac, lowering his eyebrows. He grasped Ivan's wrist, causing the boy to freeze up from eating his dessert and look at him with question. "What did he look like?" he continued to ask, seeking his way to Ivan's hand and lacing their fingers together.

"I wasn't there, so I don't know," replied Feizhi, picking up her teacup. "Brother Xu might know, though," she thought as he lifted the lid and sipped her tea. "Those brigands must be really powerful if they shattered part of the mountain as if it was nothing."

Isaac lowered his eyebrows, wondering what kind of excuse he could use to pursue the matter.

"I only found an abandoned building at the side of the road…" he said.

"Abandoned?" asked Feizhi, raising an eyebrow. "Are you _sure_?"

"Not entirely," replied Isaac. "I didn't stay there for long since there were blood splatters and broken furniture on the floor… seemed like a trap."

"Is that so?" said Feizhi, sipping her tea again. "Then it seems like those brigands only temporarily occupied that roadside inn," she thought. "They must have gone to Lama Temple then… Master Hama!"

Feizhi's eyes stretched tall for a second and she suddenly put down her tea and grabbed her sword.

"Ah, I just remembered some business I need to take care of," she said, placing a piece of silver on the table. "It was nice talking to you, Brother Yi. This meal's on me."

"_Wait!_" said Isaac as soon Feizhi stood up.

"Yes?" The young woman looked to him with question.

"Uh… _uh_…" Isaac croaked awkwardly, hoping that Ivan would fill in, but the boy remained silent and continued to eat his dessert.

"Is something the matter?" asked Feizhi.

Isaac averted his gaze and clenched his teeth.

"I… I was just wondering…"

Feizhi tilted her head aside and raised the left side of her mouth.

"I was wondering if you know how far it is to Lama Temple from here!" Isaac finished.

"Lama Temple? It that where you're heading?"

"Yes," he replied with a sigh of relief. "The road was blocked so I came here."

"So we're heading in the same direction," thought Feizhi, and Isaac snapped his eyes wide in attention. "Um," she then said with a slight laugh. "The only way there right now is through the demon infested mines, but you should just wait until the roadblock is cleared, Brother Yi."

"I _need_ to get to Lama Temple as fast as possible!" said Isaac, clutching Ivan's hand tighter. He had let Jenna slip away once already and he couldn't possibly imagine crawling back to Xian and face Garet and the priestess with another failure. "It's a matter of _life and death_!"

Feizhi looked at him with a concerned expression, startled by his tone. Her inner voice told Isaac that she was convinced by his sincerity, but she spoke other words as she gestured to the Adept to calm down.

"The mines are off limits and guarded by the watch right now," she said. "You won't get in without a permit. Brother Yi, you have a little brother—"

"Then how do _you_ plan to get in?" asked Isaac. He'd used his normal speaking voice, but he still recognized the alarm in Feizhi's eyes as she clamped her mouth shut and stared at him in surprise. In her mind she questioned how Isaac could possibly know, even suspecting he was a spy for the brigands who robbed the roadside inn.

Isaac opened and closed his mouth without saying another word, swallowing as his grip around Ivan's hands slackened. Feizhi finally made a hand-gesture and politely bid him farewell, leaving Isaac staring at the door in disbelief after she was gone.

Isaac turned back to the table and covered his face with his free hand, unable to believe his own stupidity. He had Ivan at his side using Mindread and he still messed up. He must be the worst negotiator ever.

"Don't feel bad," said Ivan in a monotone voice. He released Isaac's hand and finished his dessert. "I made that same mistake a lot too when I first started out…"

Isaac remained silent and averted his eyes.

"Isaac," said Ivan. The boy picked up Isaac's dessert from the table, scooping up a spoonful of that white pudding and offering it to the Earth Adept.

Isaac's stared at the dessert for a moment and then let his gaze wandered to Ivan's face.

"It's good," said the boy with a cheerful smile. "Please, try it."

Isaac sighed and took the spoon from Ivan's hand and put it in his mouth, tasting the soft pudding. Despite the syrup, Isaac could barely taste the sweetness in the dessert.

He _had_ to go through the mines of Altin since waiting half a month for the road to be cleared wasn't an option. It wasn't just about catching Felix and finding Jenna at Lama Temple—he didn't have the money to rent a room here for that many days!

After finishing the food, the Adepts headed upstairs. Their room had been cleaned while they ate lunch downstairs. It was nothing out of the extraordinary; one bed, a table and two chairs, and a wooden chest for storing clothing. The room had a window facing the street, and Isaac opened the casement. Watching the people repairing their homes reminded Isaac of his own grief back when a quarter of Vale was buried under rocks and dirt after the storm three years ago. His fingers scratched against the wooden casement as he lowered his gaze to the windowsill. So many people died that night. So many people were injured…

"Isaac…"

Hearing Ivan's soft voice, he turned back to find the boy standing behind him with a worried look. He gave Ivan a wry smile as he ruffled his hair, passing the little Wind Adept to put their luggage down next to the bed and withdraw the extra blankets from his rucksack. Ivan soundlessly closed the distance between them in the meantime, and the moment Isaac stood up, he grasped the older Adept's wrist and gazed deeply into his cornflower eyes.

"Isaac, I promise we'll get into the mines before sundown," said Ivan.

For the rest of the day, Ivan taught Isaac how to be patient and alert. How to charm unsuspecting people with words and smiles, all the while using whatever knowledge acquired from Mindread to his advantage. Isaac listened as he sat with Ivan on the bed but he still wasn't quite convinced that Ivan truly could charm someone that could let them into the mines that quickly.

The boy simply smiled and grasped his wrist, leading him out of their room and to the top of the staircase. From here, Isaac could see the common room and the counter where the innkeeper stood and wrote with a brush.

"Stay here behind the wall, Isaac," said Ivan. "Come pick me up when I give you the sign."

"Sign?" asked Isaac with a puzzled look.

"You'll see," Ivan replied with a mischievous grin.

Before Isaac could ask more questions Ivan had rushed down the stairs. The boy played up his childishness to the extreme as he skipped around in the common room for a moment, looking over the shoulders of some random diners. Finally, the innkeeper saw him bothering the patrons and called him to the counter, asking him where Isaac was. Ivan simply shrugged and shook his head. The man looked to the staircase, but he couldn't see Isaac peeking behind the wall. With a defeated sigh, he put Ivan on a stool behind the counter and gave him an abacus to play with until Isaac returned.

Ivan looked at the innkeeper's writing with a curious expression and began asking childish questions about his work while using Mindread. The man answered them as best he could and then asked about Ivan's parents. Ivan told him the sad longwinded story of his parental abandonment, although he left out his servitude to the Merchant King and replaced it with Isaac rescuing him from ruthless bandits and adopting him as his brother instead. He praised Isaac's kindness for taking Ivan with him wherever he went and always protecting him no matter what. He then proceeded to say Isaac that was his "favourite person" and that he loved him more than anything else in the world, making Isaac cringe in his hiding spot.

"Who's your favourite person?" Ivan then asked the innkeeper.

The man chuckled, saying his wife passed away in illness many years ago. Ivan asked if he had kids. The innkeeper sighed, saying he had two sons in Isaac's age. Both, however, were too busy with their kung-fu friends to care about the family business at all.

"_Brother!_" Ivan suddenly squealed, looking to the staircase.

Isaac jumped out behind the wall and smiled awkwardly. He hesitantly waved to Ivan, who returned the abacus, and happily approached the staircase with his arms spread wide. Seeing where this was going, Isaac met the little Wind Adept at the bottom of the stairs and caught Ivan in his embrace, raising the boy up in his arms. As Ivan looped his arms around his neck, Isaac looked to the innkeeper and apologized for his kid brother bothering him in his work.

The innkeeper merely sighed and shook his head, telling Isaac to keep a better eye on the child. Isaac nodded and then excused himself, heading back upstairs.

Afterwards, behind closed doors, Ivan told him the innkeeper had a son who regularly travelled between Lama Temple and Xian and proposed a plan to befriend him. Isaac listened intently and memorized his words, finding Ivan's cunning side captivating and worrying at the same time. The boy was intelligent and could be very brave if he wanted to—no wonder the Merchant King made him his cupbearer and spy. But Ivan was Isaac's responsibility now—

"I'm an Adept, Isaac," said Ivan. "You don't need to worry—"

"That makes me worry about you even _more_!"

Isaac drew the boy into his arms once more, frightened by the memory of Ivan lying battered and abused in an alleyway. And the mere possibility of Ivan being found out as a wizard and getting killed was unbearable.

He only took Ivan with him when he left Xian, remembering his promise of never leaving the boy behind. And as they journeyed Isaac realized how much he'd missed wandering the country roads without watchful and judging eyes hovering over his shoulder. It was pathetic, but he'd missed the calm nights and holding Ivan while telling him campfire stories and he didn't want those nights to end.

"We're both pathetic then," said Ivan with a little laugh, brushing his head against the side of Isaac's face.

* * *

**_Author's notes:_**

I'm having trouble with editing this story arc since I'm stuck in a situation where I know the beginning and the end, but struggle putting the middle together. This chapter (and the next one, since they I split it due to its length) was originally written in Ivan's point of view so I had to completely rewrite most of it.


	28. – Mistakes

**T**he sun rose behind the mountains in the morning and rising smoke from the town's fireplaces streaked the cold blue sky. Isaac squinted at the horizon while slowly pacing towards Altin Peak with Ivan at his side. He stifled a yawn and blew a puff of mist into the air, rubbing his shoulders while adjusting the straps of his rucksack. Even though he had a proper bed last night, he still didn't feel as if he had enough sleep.

It was due to his new training. Psynergy was the might of the mind, the Djinn had told him, so he could hone his skills in dreams. So every night, Isaac would fight his spirit servants while everyone else thought he was asleep. Every morning, he'd wake up tired and spiritually drained. The priestess and her lackeys had even taken to calling him lazy, but what did _they_ know? They still referred to Psynery as "magic" and thought they could take down Felix with their numbers alone. If only they knew Felix could create impenetrable barriers, instantly heal from any injury, or even throw a mountain on top of them…

Isaac had worked tirelessly to improve his Psynergy ever since the tempest took his father. But despite his efforts he'd seen little to no improvement in his abilities. It all changed that night Ivan went into that stupid cave to retrieve a Psynergy manual for him. Ivan went into that cave full of traps after a stupid pamphlet because he thought Isaac _needed_ it. And it filled Isaac with such immense guilt and self-loathing that he didn't know what to do about his own weakness.

It was then the Djinn offered him yet another pact. And seeing no other solution to his own weakness Isaac agreed to it, allowing them complete access to his mind and Psynergy in exchange for direct assistance. The Elementals had witnessed the might of the Ancients, and they would bring him the victory he needed. There was no other way—he couldn't possibly defeat Felix on his own. The only way to fight Felix's magic was with even stronger magic—everything else was meaningless.

"Isaac?" said Ivan suddenly.

"Yes?"

"Is something the matter? You're scowling."

Isaac lifted the corners of his lips and exhaled.

"Just tired."

The boy averted his eyes and frowned at the road. He didn't pursue the truth, even though he clearly wasn't buying Isaac's excuse.

"What do you plan to do with Felix once we find him?" asked Ivan.

The question hit Isaac like lightning and he immediately froze for a second to ponder the answer. The obvious answer was to beat him up and ask questions later, but he couldn't bring himself to give Ivan that kind of answer even if that was what he truly felt.

"Don't worry about it, Ivan," said Isaac, smiling. "No matter what happens, I promise I'll bring you to Vale."

Ivan bit his lower lip and nodded in silence. The boy pulled his hood over his head and lowered his nose behind the old yellow scarf. Seeing the mended seams on Ivan's clothing made Isaac worried about surviving winter. They were Adepts, but they were still humans. They needed to eat, sleep and clothe themselves properly. Life might have been harsh after he was robbed on the road to Vault, but the situation was worse now; he was in foreign lands and he had nothing left to pawn off for money, and it was difficult to forage for food in winter within a reasonable amount of time. They had to keep moving; he left the priestess's crusading squad because they were to slow, after all.

Reaching the mines of Altin, Isaac sighted Xianese guards in the area. They stopped him from entering, saying Altin Peak were off limits until further notice.

"Ah… uh…" said Isaac. He searched the area behind the guards with his gaze, looking for the mercenaries he was supposed to meet with here. They didn't run out on him, did they?

"He's with me."

Hearing that familiar low voice, Isaac turned around to see a small group of four people approaching. They all dressed in Xianese clothing and carried lanterns and heavy bludgeoning weapons. The leader at the front, Xu Wei, was a stocky and chubby faced man known for his physical strength. He was just twenty, but he already had made a name for himself in his hometown. He had a fancy moniker in the kung-fu community, but friends simply called him Brother Xu. He regularly escorted people or goods between Lama Temple and Xian with his small band of mercenaries, although he only brought two of his companions with him today in addition to Feizhi—the young woman who gave Isaac her room in the Flying Phoenix Inn. The lavender-haired woman wasn't without a name either. When Isaac drank with the mercenaries last evening, Xu told him Feizhi was the only child of renowned martial artist Fei Wuyi, better known as Cloudpiercing Swallow for his nimbleness and acrobatic skill. Feizhi had mastered her father's techniques well, he said, and she could leap higher than any of her father's disciples.

Xu waved to Isaac as he approached with a broad grin, seemingly pleased that Isaac had kept his word to meet him here at dawn. The lavender-haired woman however wasn't so happy, greeting Isaac with a scowl and no words.

When they finally arrived in front of the guards and handed over papers from the authorities, Feizhi swiftly grabbed Isaac's shoulder and pushed him back a step.

"Yi Shak!" She hissed at him. "So _you're _the one responsible for Brother Xu's mad decision?"

Isaac choked on his breath and stared back at the woman in confusion, although Xu quickly pried Feizhi off from Isaac as soon he saw the hostility. The woman was livid and she gestured wildly while shouting at the mercenary leader. She pointed at Isaac and said he was the "unlucky star" that would bring misfortune to him. Isaac could only stare at her in confusion, unsure whether he should be offended or not since he didn't understand what she was talking about.

Xu rolled his eyes, while his male friends—Ma and Fu, pointed at them with amused smiles. Feizhi clearly didn't want the mercenaries to enter the mine, but Isaac didn't understand why she was antagonizing _him_.

"Something terrible is going to happen to you, Brother Xu! I _know_ it!" said Feizhi. "Can't you just stay in Altin for one more day? You can go wherever you want tomorrow for all I care!"

"When did you become a superstitious grandmother?" Xu shot back. "Ever since you arrived in Altin you've been following me around and restricting where I can go and what I may do! Why don't you become a fortune-teller since you can see the future?"

Isaac hesitantly searched for a way to remove himself from the scene while the two kung-fu friends were bickering. He tried to simply scurry off unnoticed, but Xu told him he shouldn't feel pressured to leave just because Feizhi is a superstitious hag.

"_Hag!_" said Feizhi with a sharp stare at her friend.

"You nag like my grandaunt, what should I call you if not a hag?"

Feizhi opened and closed her mouth and her green eyes grew tall.

"I just don't want Uncle Xu to _bury his child_!" she then told him.

"Am I supposed to let these villains get away murdering innocents? I thought we agreed that we martial artists should protect the people!"

"No, but you should wait—"

"You're _kidding_, right? They already took the shortcut through the mountain pass! If they leave Xianese territory we'll never catch them! Will you even be able to sleep at night knowing you _let_ these murders slip away?"

Feizhi held her breath for a second.

"Fine," she said, breathing the word out in defeat. "But what about him?"

She looked to Isaac.

"Our roads entwine," said Xu. "Those criminals kidnapped his fiancée."

The look in Feizhi's green eyes softened, although she still kept her eyebrows low and didn't make eye-contact with Isaac.

"Forgive me, Brother Yi," she said, bowing her head slightly. "My visions clouded my judgement."

"Bah, visions…" Xu rolled his eyes and shook his head. Turning to the rest of his companions he said: "All right, everyone's here now! Let's get going."

The men picked up their lanterns and weapons. Ma looked to Isaac and offered him a pair of maces similar to the ones Xu carried.

"I already have a weapon," said Isaac, showing Ma his sword.

"The hides of those monsters are hard as stone," replied the fighter. "Blades and spears won't hurt them—take the hammers."

Isaac lifted a corner of his mouth and shrugged, accepting the clubs and weighing them in his hands. One of them was heavy enough—how did Xu dual wield these things? As they began moving towards the entrance of the mine, Feizhi approached him and asked:

"Your fiancée; what's her name?"

"Jenna," replied Isaac.

"Zhenna," said Feizhi in a monotone voice. "I hope she's all right."

"She better be," Isaac muttered for himself.

Feizhi then lowered her voice to a mere whisper.

"If I find out you're in league with those sorcerers," she said, "you won't exit the caves alive."

Isaac blinked. He could barely register the threat before Feizhi gave him a polite smile and a nod and then paced faster to catch up with Xu, who just finished sorting things out with the guards. The mercenary retrieved his papers back from the guards and then looked Isaac's way, beckoning him to come.

The Earth Adept shook his head and breathed out an ironic chuckle, not knowing whether he should laugh or cry. Did he really look that much like a criminal?

"She's paranoid," said Ivan, grasping Isaac's hand as they neared the entrance of the mine. "You're innocent, Isaac. Don't worry."

Isaac sighed with a smile and squeezed the little Wind Adept's hand. He followed Feizhi and the mercenaries' shadows closely, walking on the wagonway on the ground as they descended into the depths.

The tunnels where dark and dank and as the sunlight behind him faded away and finally disappeared, he tugged Ivan closer. He could hear faint echoes of water droplets splashing against rocks and it made him feel uneasy. As the tunnel narrowed and the ceiling began nearing his head, Isaac worried whether this was such a great idea after all as he was being reminded of his escape through the collapsing maze of Sol Sanctum.

Isaac didn't even know how he got out of the vault after falling into the boiling water. All he remembered was that he suddenly was sprinting down a dimly lit hallway as the mosaics on the walls came to life and trapped him in a battlefield of imaginary monsters and demons. He'd broken down right there in the middle of the corridor, crying and screaming as phantom voices judged his weakness and sentenced him to death for the crimes he had committed. Honestly, he would have been crushed by falling debris if Garet hadn't pulled him up and dragged him out of the maze in time.

"Isaac…"

Isaac shuddered and snapped back to the present upon hearing Ivan's voice. The boy clung on his arm, almost cradling it as he let warm energy seep into Isaac's body. Isaac drew a deep breath, silently telling Ivan he didn't need to be afraid. Ivan stroked the inside of his arm as reply.

"I'm not afraid when you're here," said the boy, "I know you'll protect me, Isaac."

Those words stirred something within the Earth Adept, and for a moment Isaac felt his heart swell. Suddenly, Isaac was nine years old and courageous again, clutching his beloved brother's hand with a brave face as he picked up his pace to not fall behind.

"_Wah!_"

Feizhi's yelp echoed through the mine and Isaac froze, his left arm curling around Ivan shoulder as his right hand brandished the heavy mace.

"What is it now, Ah'zi?" said Xu, turning around.

"Tripped," replied Feizhi.

"Are you hurt?"

"Of course not," she defensively shot back. "Hurry up! The sooner we reach Lama Temple the less I need to worry about you!"

"Understood, Grandaunt."

When they finally arrived in the digging area, Xu and his friends stopped and waved around their lanterns in the darkness, inspecting the place. There was a strong smell of iron in here and as Isaac carefully took a step forward his boot splashed against a puddle of water. He gazed upwards and listened to the dripping sound in the room, wondering where the water was coming from. He carefully guided Ivan around the puddle and headed over to Xu and his friends, who examined the wagonway and tried finding their way with their charts.

_Klang!_

Isaac wheezed in pain as his left foot suddenly crashed against something hard that emitted a metallic sound. Lowering his gaze he found an old steel lantern on the ground.

"Pshaw!" said Isaac. He swept the old lantern aside with his foot and then suddenly spotted a frozen hand wrapped around its handle. Looking closer, he found the lifeless arm sticking from out under pile of crudely shaped rocks and boulders on and a pool of blood beneath. A gasp escaped his lips and he quickly drew Ivan into his arms and pressed the boy's face to his chest.

"X-xu! Feizhi!" Isaac called out to the rest of the group.

"What is it?"

"There's a dead person here!"

The mercenaries hurried over to the Adepts and Ma raised his lantern towards the pile of rocks. Isaac still protectively held the little Wind Adept in his arms as the mercenaries looked around the suspicious rubble and the body. The rocks were blocking the path they needed to take and Feizhi said they should head back and report the findings instead of lingering in the cold mines.

"There's nothing we can do here," reasoned Feizhi.

"You're right this time," said Xu. "We need a new plan."

Isaac held his breath and closed his eyes while still holding Ivan in his arms. The mission was cancelled.

Why? Had all his efforts been fort naught? Was he destined to fail in his quest no matter what he did? Staring at the damn rocks, he let go of Ivan and stepped towards the debris, livid. For every single step on this journey there was hindrance and obstacles. From bandits and thieves to snow and rivers and mountain caves!

"_Ugh!_"

He launched a sloppy kick at the rocks with the bottom of his heel, but suddenly unleashed a wave of Psynergy and toppled the pile of boulders with a careless spell.

"Huh? Brother Yi!" said Xu, turning his attention back to the mining area where Isaac stood in shock.

The Earth Adept staggered back. He immediately searched within himself and called for his Elementals, demanding an answer. He'd never lost control of his Psynergy before.

"We thought you needed a hand," replied the Djinn innocently.

Isaac drew in half a breath as the Xianese started heading back. Great, now he had to lie since these fools couldn't see his Psynergy. Xu and the other however didn't question the rubble, but rather checked on _him_ instead.

"Are you all right?" asked Xu.

Isaac let out a sigh of relief as he averted his eyes to the dark tunnels next to them.

"Yes," he replied. "I was just… startled."

"Good to hear," said Xu. "For a moment I thought you were crushed."

Isaac was about to suggest they continue to Lama Temple since the path was clear, but his mind froze when he suddenly glimpsed something red glimmering in the dark like gemstones exposed to light. He didn't hear Xu's and Feizhi's renewed argument, but he heard the sound of grinding stone coming from the tunnel. Then, a blue light shone in the cavern.

"LOOK OUT!" Feizhi screeched, pulling the mercenaries aside as the spell blasted the remaining rocks out of the way and sent them flying in all directions and showered the adventurers with a spray of cold water.

Isaac shielded his face with his arms and staggered back. He then drew his sword and an orb of lightning shone above his head at his command, illuminating the cave in a cold white light. Finally, he could see what had ambushed him from the tunnels. The monster was towering beast with the body of a large cat. It had a thick mane of swirls that resembled petrified shells and its hide was covered with shimmering frost and ice. Its paws emitted chilling mist and as it slowly approached the middle of the mining area it shrouded the mine in thick obscuring fog.

Isaac gasped when someone grabbed his shoulder, but Xu pulled him aside and shoved Ivan into his arms. With his lantern in one hand and a steel club on the other, he ordered Isaac:

"Take your brother and get out of here!"

Isaac gripped Ivan's hand tightly darted towards the exit, but upon feeling the increasing cold on his feet and realizing that the place was being flooded he froze and turned back. The mercenaries still stood around in the mist and waited for an opportunity to attack. As Isaac's conscience began scolding him, he shoved Ivan towards the exit and then swept his free hand through the air, clearing the fog with a gust of wind and revealing the beast. The lightning wisp shone brighter as he channelled his powers and the cold water had risen to cover his feet. The longer this monster lived the more dangerous their own situation became—he had to end it quickly.

Yet, when Isaac was about to throw another spell, a blade suddenly pressed against his neck and made him freeze up.

"I _knew_ it," said Feizhi. "You _are_ a sorcerer."

Isaac winced in surprise and frustration.

"I'm an _Adept!_" he yelled, watching Xu and his male friends surround and start attacking the monster with their clubs and hammers. "I'm not a criminal wizard!"

Fu twirled his chain with a weight at the end, casting it around the monster's neck in attempt to restrain it while Xu and Ma rained blows down on the beast with their hammers from different sides, shattering its stony hide. But despite the damage the stone lion didn't flinch and with a wild toss of its head it threw Fu to the ground and knocked the others off their feet with its damaged paws. The opened it's wide mouth, breathing out a cloud of mist as it began to glow in ghastly blue.

"Be careful!" said Feizhi. "It's using magic!"

"Protect them!" Isaac called out, ordering his Djinn to work before it was too late.

A barrier of light painted itself around the beast, trapping it in a cylinder as it spat a storm of ice. The ice shards crashed against the shield and bounced around inside, shattering into pebbles that rained down over the battlefield like hail.

As the energy barrier shattered into fading sparks a bolt of lightning suddenly hit the monster's face with a thundering crash—Ivan stupidly had decided to join the fight and instead of running away.

Finally, Feizhi removed her threatening blade and Isaac charged towards the beast with his sword raised high. Xu and Ma could barely rise before the stone lion attacked them again, knocking them aside with its heavy paws. Isaac didn't see where they landed, but he gestured with his free hand, sending a volley of lightning arrows to draw the monsters attention. He cursed when Feizhi leapt past him, using one of the nearby boulders as stepping stone to get onto the stone lion's back and grabbing hold the chain Fu earlier had looped around the beast's neck.

Isaac clenched his teeth and angled his sword for attack. He called to his Elementals and demanded their assistance again. He needed to make a cut, he told them. And it needed to be _clean_. Victory or death—it all hinged on one single strike!

Chilling cold cut through his arm as the Spirits granted his wish. His blade blazed like a torch in the darkness, drawing a trail of sparks as it cut through the air. But then his foot was suddenly lodged into the floor and he tripped.

"_ISAAC!_" yelled Ivan.

Isaac grunted in pain and propped himself up on his hands. He threw his enchanted sword like a spear and it buried itself deep between the monster's eyes. Even so, the stone lion didn't flinch and as the unstoppable monster loomed over him, Isaac raked the ice with his hands and angrily willed the earth open.

"_ISAAC, NO!_"

Rays of yellow light burst from his claw marks and bled out like a blot of golden ink. Even though he already knew the outcome of his decision, he still lost his breath as he helplessly plunged through the light and into darkness.

Death welcomed him with an embrace for his final heroic deed, and for a second Isaac even felt as if he was flying. He saw the light of his blade vanish into the darkness below and a deafening crash echoed through the mine. But then, his feet touched the ground with a soft clap and he realized that someone was indeed holding him around the waist.

A glimmer of light snapped alive at his command, showing Isaac his saviour's face. Feizhi blinked and she quickly let go and took a wide step away from him in an almost disgusted manner.

"Are you all right?" she then asked, averting her eyes while brushing stray strands of hair back behind her ear.

Isaac pressed his hands against his chest, his heart still beating too fast for comfort as he let out a pathetic gasp and fell to his knees. The broken remains of the stone lion lay in front of him in a heap of stone and metal gears and springs.

"A machine?" said Feizhi. She seemingly whispered to herself, but then turned her gaze to Isaac, questioning if he knew anything about these monsters.

The woman squinted and then approached the heap of rubble gently touching the broken stone statue with a soft hand. The pile of rubble glowed at her touch and she withdrew her hand in alarm, looking to Isaac for confirmation of what she'd seen.

Isaac still took long and deep breaths, gasping and trying to calm himself but he kept his eyes on the woman. Feizhi knitted her eyebrows together and then placed her hand on the pile of rubble again, once again invoking a faint light with her touch. She then pulled away and looked at her hand, squinting in thought as she whispered something to herself.

"You're a sorceress," said Isaac finally.

The lavender-haired woman turned her attention to him, lowering her eyebrows with a glare at the accusation.

"You…" gasped Isaac. "You warned us from the monsters' attacks. You _saw_ the light when it used Psynergy. Only sorcerers can see it!"

Feizhi kept staring at him with a hostile look, but she didn't say anything and the conversation was cut short by Ivan's shrill voice:

"Isaac! _Isaac!_"

Ivan caught him in a tight embrace and buried his face in his chest. The Earth Adept exhaled deeply and returned the hug, looking over the boy's shoulder to see Xu limping towards them. Xu's face and clothes were dirty and he clamped a hand over a wound on his right leg.

Isaac directed his gaze upwards to the hole from which they'd fallen. From the looks of it they'd dropped a good thirty feet at least and he found himself gazing up at the interior of an arched roof. He saw dim light of a candle or lantern shine and one of Xu's companions sitting above the hole.

"_Brother Xu!"_ yelled Ma. "Are you down there? Say something! Are you all right?"

"We're not dead yet!" replied Xu. "Wounded, but not dead. Are you all right up there?"

"We're not in good shape either!" said Ma. He paused. "Fu needs help!" he then added. "He's severely injured!"

Xu grunted and he averted his eyes for a second, contemplating the situation.

"Ah'zi," he then said, nodding towards the hole in the ceiling. "Can you use your qi? Get out of here and help if you can."

Feizhi nodded and took a deep breath. She then took a leap, using the remains of the stone lion as a stepping stone to make another leap, launching herself upwards with a burst of Psynergy. She moved quickly, as if running up invisible stairs but ultimately failed reaching the top and halted the journey with a backflip, once again manipulating her fall with Psynergy to prevent a lethal drop. After landing unscathed on the marble floor, she turned back to Xu and shook her head.

"I can't leap such heights," said Feizhi. "Why don't you try—?"

Feizhi silenced as she noticed Xu's pained grimace and that he was pressing a hand over a wound on his thigh.

"_Ah!_ You're bleeding!"

"I'm not _blind_," replied Xu. "It's just a flesh wound," he muttered, looking up towards the ceiling and addressing Isaac. "Brother Yi, can _you_ get out and help?"

Isaac gave the mercenaries a hesitant look and then shook his head without saying a word. Xu accepted the answer with a nod and looked upwards to Ma.

"Ma, get Fu to back to safety and bring help!" said Xu. "We can't get out!"

"Yes, Brother Xu, I'll bring help right away! Be careful down there!"

"You be careful too!" said Feizhi. "We're counting on you!"

Isaac watched the dim light above fade away and he hesitantly looked to Xu, who limped behind the broken statue to dress his wound—if only Isaac still could heal.

"What is this place?" said Feizhi, gazing around the area beneath the mine. "Brother Yi, do you know anything bout this place?"

Isaac scanned the room as well, guiding his wisp to illuminate tall sculpted columns holding up the arched ceiling.

"No," replied Isaac, shaking his head. "I've never been here before," he then added, although he recognized the architecture from somewhere.

"Why didn't you tell us you could do magic?" asked Feizhi.

"You use magic too," said Isaac. "You wouldn't be able to see my Psynergy if you weren't a sorceress."

Feizhi stared at him and furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Xun-what?"

"Psynergy," replied Isaac. "You were using it too. I saw a burst of energy at your feet when you leapt."

"That's not magic," said Feizhi. "That's my qi."

"Your _chi_?" said Isaac, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what you call Psynergy in these parts of the world?"

"I don't know what this Xunerji is," said Feizhi, "but qi is the energies of our own bodies we harness."

"That sounds just like our Psynergy," said Ivan, looking to the Earth Adept, "doesn't it Isaac?"

"Yes," said Isaac. "What you people call chi is what we call primitive magic. It's the kind of magic you're restricted to if your Elemental affinity is too weak."

"Woah, hold on a moment," said Xu, who'd finished dressing his wound and now approached the conversation. "Everyone can learn to use their qi, but very can do sorcery."

Isaac stared at Xu and shook his head.

"I don't understand," he said, narrowing his eyes. He wasn't sure whether to be insulted or not. "It's the same thing."

"As Master Fei says," said Xu, "anyone can learn to use the innate energies of one's own body, but very few can use it to tamper with the laws of nature."

"Tamper with the laws of nature? _Really?_" said Isaac. He couldn't help but scoff at the blatant ignorance and self-righteousness. "Is that what we Adepts do nowadays in your eyes? Do you condemn your priests and healers too?"

"Who do you think you are to make such statements?" said Feizhi. "You don't seem to have the slightest idea of what harm sorcery has caused."

"He's a member of a _holy order_!" shouted Ivan. "A templar of Vale!"

Isaac drew in a short breath and held it as Ivan's words echoed through the room, but he held his gaze still and didn't waver when the Xianese gave him studying looks. The boy gently tugged his arm, asking him to say something, but Isaac couldn't find the right words to back up the lie.

"If you're truly afraid of my gift, then I'll stop using it in your presence," said Isaac finally. He then pointed to the broken statue. "If I didn't split the earth with my powers, that _thing_ would've crushed us all."

"And I saved you from that fall," said Feizhi. "If Brother Xu and I didn't catch you two, you'd be dead."

Isaac exhaled and chuckled. He wasn't sure they could reach an agreement of trust. Either way, it was probably not wise to stick around if their principles clashed. He looked to Ivan and took the boy's hand and then turned away.

"Where are you going?" said Xu. "Brother Yi, you don't know what's down there."

"My Psynergy clearly makes you uncomfortable," replied Isaac, "so I'll leave." He smiled bitterly and didn't turn back to face the mercenary.

Being an Adept outside Vale had been nothing but terrible. He couldn't believe that Ivan actually managed to live this kind of life for so many years.

"Brother Yi!" said Feizhi.

"What?" Isaac responded, dejectedly sighing in the process.

"I must apologize!" said Feizhi. "I shouldn't have unjustly treated you as if you were a criminal. Please, forgive me."

Isaac smiled, but he didn't know why he did so. There was nothing amusing about the situation, yet he found himself grinning like and idiot while tears began forming in is eyes. He drew in a quick breath and blinked away his tears, hoping that his words wouldn't quiver when he spoke.

"So, you're fine with having a sorcerer in your company?" he then asked, turning back.

"Sorcerers are people too. There are good and bad ones out there. I was wrong to suspect you without any evidence."

"I understand. I don't exactly look like a monk. I guess I should've been more honest. But hey, you did save my life, so we're even?"

Feizhi scratched the side of her neck and averted her eyes and Isaac looked down to the floor as the silence took hold.

"Why do Adepts have such a bad name in these lands?" Isaac then bitterly whispered, clutching Ivan's hand. "I have a holy order to back me up, but what about those who don't? Why is it a crime to simply _be able_ to use Psynergy? I don't understand…"

"The art of manipulating the energies of the world has been lost since times immemorial," said Xu. "To prevent another Great War of Sorcery, our ancestors burned every book containing any major information about the arcane arts. Yet, many who have mastered their qi seek greater heights. They seek the powers of the Ancients in vain, losing themselves in the process and becoming degenerate madmen."

Isaac's heart sank and he briefly cast a look to Ivan, who was wearing a stiff emotionless expression. Nodding, he smiled wryly and guided Ivan away from the gathering.

"We'll look around and see if it's safe here," he said, almost whispering.

He remembered the day he saved Ivan in Bilibin. How Ivan had willed up harsh winds in the marketplace in desperation and was about to call upon a storm. Even though Isaac wasn't a perfect Psynergy instructor, he no longer regretted his decision of not letting go of Ivan's hand. For in another world, Ivan could have lost control of his powers and became a menace that needed to be put to death.

Isaac knew how devastating an untrained Adept could be from first-hand experience, having stupidly tried to teach Jenna Psynergy when they were children. It was his deepest regret. He was arrogant, cowardly and foolish. He remembered taking Jenna's hand and drawing her powers out, copying the spell his father used to unlock his Psynergy early. He was arrogant and foolish because he wanted to impress a friend. But he didn't even know how to use own Psynergy properly, less control someone else's. Before he knew it, he found himself trapped in a burning building. And being the coward he was, he escaped, leaving Jenna alone in the burning barn. Even after Jenna was rescued, he couldn't even admit to the rest of the village he was the cause of trouble. Instead, he let Garet be blamed for the event even though the friend brought help so that Jenna could be saved.

"You were a _child_, Isaac," whispered Ivan, "and you panicked. Don't be so hard on yourself for a past mistake."

Isaac sighed and gave his spell more power, letting his lightning wisp illuminate every nook and cranny of the room with its cold light. The smooth marble floor and the vaulted ceiling expanded to a hall lined with columns that resembling beautiful women, and behind the pillars the walls were covered with mosaic art. Isaac recognized the motif. He'd seen it before—in the maze of Sol Sanctum.

A sky filled with fire and smoke, crumbling towers and minarets, and dragons soaring the sky. On top of the burning castle roof stood a man in a white tunic. His long golden hair and white cloak billowed in the wind and he brandished a spear that shone like a falling star. Above him soared a fearsome red dragon with blackened wings.

Isaac willed his Psynergy to his palm and touched the mosaic with his spell. His Psynergy dissipated against the wall and the pictures glowed and moved. The dragon spewed a wave of flames at the sage but Saint Imil's spear blazed and he summoned a warding shield absorbing the dragon's flames.

"Amazing," said Xu.

Isaac looked aside to see his new companions standing next to him. They had apparently decided to tag along on the exploration and studied the animated mosaic with interest. As the spell faded, the picture froze and became lifeless once more.

"How did you _do_ that?" asked Feizhi.

Isaac looked at his hand for a second. Unable to explain it with words, he pressed his palm against the mosaic and showed her again. As the Xianese began discussing what the art depicted, Isaac cast a wide look around the hall. This place looked too similar to Sol Sanctum's interior and the sculpted columns were almost identical to the ones found inside the temple. Could this place have a connection to the final resting place of the Elemental Stars?

He began to wander down the hall on instinct, his breath creating puffs of mist in the coldness and his footsteps emitting sound echoes as he stepped ahead with Ivan and the others following closely behind.

For every third column there was an empty pedestal for supporting a statue. There was even an unfinished stone lion sitting on one of the daises with its rusty cogs and springs visible where its head was supposed to be. Isaac wondered who or what was behind the creation of those things and why they attacked the miners and the townsfolk in the first place. Was this the home of one of those mad wizards Xu mentioned?

_Plish…_

Hearing the splash and feeling coldness on his toes, Isaac halted and gazed down to the floor, finding his path cut off by a wide basin of water. He looked ahead and his lightning wisp followed his gaze, flying near the surface and revealing a narrow pathway in front of him that was barely covered by liquid. It was the same deal as in Sol Sanctum's vault; an entire area filled with water and narrow pathways leading to the final resting places of the Elemental Stars. But on the other side of this hall, there were no grand statues of the Saints' likenesses or relics—there was only an old frozen throne.

"Hm…" said Feizhi. She then leapt from the edge of the basin with a burst of Psynergy. As she landed on the pathway a clicking sound echoed from above.

"_Traps!_" said Isaac, ordering his Elementals to protect Feizhi. He quickly pulled Ivan close to him and wiped a hand in an arc above his head, painting an energy barrier to absorb incoming lightning.

But all he heard was a sound _splash!_ and then laughter from Xu. Looking up, he found Feizhi sitting encased in a bubble of light floating on the water surface. She looked back at Isaac in confused irritation and punched at the bubble, obviously asking what the hell this was about but the barrier didn't let any sound through. Xu kept laughing while Feizhi grudgingly walked over to the other side of the basin, pushing the protective bubble along with her. The Djinn didn't let her out until she'd safely reached the other side of the room.

Isaac sighed in relief and looked upwards to the ceiling. Xu followed Feizhi and limped out of the slippery narrow path of stone. Again, there was the clicking sound of the trap being triggered, but nothing happened. Even so, Isaac decided to not approach; he could see the entire room from where he stood and it was clearly a dead end.

Suddenly, his vision blotted out and he blinked hard and squatted to the floor.

"Isaac? What's wrong?" asked Ivan.

He couldn't maintain the nightlight any longer.

There was a clattering sound as Ivan quickly grabbed the lantern hanging from the straps of Isaac's bag, lighting the small candle with a tiny spark of lightning. Setting the lantern on the floor, he motioned Isaac to lie down.

"Sorry," said Isaac. "My endurance has become very poor lately."

Ivan worriedly put a hand on his forehead.

"No… I'm not sick," said Isaac with a grin, catching Ivan's wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. Allowing the Spirits to manipulate his Psynergy was a double-edged sword; they allowed Isaac to perform feats that he normally couldn't, but they showed no restraint when carrying out orders.

He shuddered, suddenly feeling the coldness in the air as soon he quenched his spell and stopped casting Wind Psynergy. He was hurting in several places too; his knees, his elbows, and his hands in particular—they had probably been scraped when he fell. He cast a brief look towards Feizhi and Xu. They had retrieved their own light source, moving a small candle or matches over the wall behind the old throne. Feizhi called out to him, saying there was a poem carved into the wall, but Isaac didn't care—he could barely read common writing—what did he know about Ancient poetry?

"You should take nap, Isaac," said Ivan tentatively. "I'll be here, don't worry."

But he didn't want to sleep. Not when they were trapped in this underground temple. Not when he didn't even know if they'd ever be able to get out of here alive. What if something happened to Xu's friends? What if help didn't arrive? He still had to find Felix. He still had to save Jenna. He still had to bring Ivan to Vale.

"Don't worry," Ivan whispered. "Take a nap, Isaac. Trust me."

Trust Ivan? Yes, he wanted to do that. Unable to keep fighting the inevitable, he straightened his legs and lay down on the hard floor. His unfocused gaze wandered to the vaulted ceiling and he the events of Sol Sanctum flashed before him once more.

Kraden was too eager to explore the old temple and didn't pay any attention when Garet told them to not touch anything. He didn't steal anything, but he couldn't simply look with his eyes and had to pick up every artefact on display. Eventually, his curiosity led him to trigger a trap, invoking a lightningstorm in the main hall. Isaac and Jenna had to take cover under one of the display tables and Kraden himself cowered in fear on the floor. It was a miracle that none of the lightning bolts hit him before Garet hit the disarming mechanism.

A faint smile dawned on Isaac's lips. Thinking back, maybe the fault wasn't entirely his. If Garet hadn't forgotten to reactivate the temple's defences, Felix might not have gotten into the vault so easily.

No, that's ridiculous. Felix knew more about Sol Sanctum's secrets than any of them combined—he spent months meditating there in his training. Yes, in the end, Isaac never stood a chance.

* * *

He awoke to bright light shining from above and the sculpted columns in the hall staring at him with grim expressions. Isaac gasped and sat up immediately, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and gazing towards the water basin. The liquid glowed in a ghastly blue light and mist shrouded the area. Ivan and the others were nowhere found and his heart skipped a beat. He fumbled around for his sword, but then remembered he lost it when fighting earlier. His bag and the rest of his belongings were still here though. He pushed himself up to his feet, stumbling a bit before finding balance. When he picked up his bag he noticed his gloves were gone and that someone had healed the scrapes on his palms. Looking to his knees, he still found the darkened blots on his trousers where he'd been bleeding but it no longer hurt. Who healed him? The Djinn? _Ivan?_

Ivan.

He called out to Ivan desperately, asking where he was—if he was still here, and his words echoed through the hall, but thankfully there was a reply.

"Isaac, I'm here…" said Ivan's voice in the distance. "At the entrance…"

It was then followed by a loud shriek and an echoing crash.

"Ivan! Feizhi!" said Isaac, stumbling as he hurtled down the hall. "Please, tell me you're all right…"

He froze when he arrived in the area where the broken stone statue used to be, seeing part of the rubble levitating in midair and still rising towards the opening in the ceiling. Ivan and Feizhi stood below and used Psynergy to lift the stone and metals while Xu was perched on top of the thing, ready to take a leap out of the hidden chamber.

Isaac had so many questions; about the glowing water back in the hall, how Feizhi and Ivan knew this sort of Psynergy and he wanted to know who healed his wounds, but it all had to wait. Ivan's expression was still; he didn't seem to have any trouble using the spell, but Feizhi was struggling. There were rivers of sweat on her face and she breathed heavily with a pained expression. Isaac wished he could help, but he knew better than to cut in or disrupt their concentration. He approached them silently and watched Xu rise towards the top—he was halfway there already. Finally, the mercenary used a Psynergy assisted leap and got out of the room. As soon he told the others that he was safe, Feizhi gave up on the spell.

Isaac covered his ears and jumped in surprise despite expecting the crash as the rubble hit the floor. Ivan let out a small sighed and looked his way.

"Were you startled?" asked Ivan.

Isaac slowly lowered his hands and laughed awkwardly.

"How did you learn to do that?" he then asked Ivan, looking to the broken pile of stone and metals.

"There were instructions for Psynergy in that room with the pond," said Ivan.

"It was an old chi master's training chamber…" said Feizhi, panting on the floor on her hands and knees. "His techniques were carved into the walls." She coughed and then looked to Ivan with a slight smile. "We tried it, and then your little brother got this idea of lifting someone out of the room."

Isaac looked at the little Wind Adept with wonder, surprise and… pride.

"Really?" he said.

"We tried lifting each other first," said Ivan, "but it seems like it only works on lifeless objects."

Isaac nodded and squeezed Ivan's shoulder. He was about to ask if he'd learnt how to heal as well when he suddenly heard Xu's voice echo above:

"Hey, who are you? Yes, I am Xu Wei—Huh? _Excuse me?_ _Hey! _Who _are_ you?"

His smile faded and he pulled Ivan behind him, staring up at the hole in the ceiling, not expecting friendly people to come to his rescue judging from the sound of Xu's exasperated voice.

But it was worse. Once his saviour came into view and looked down into the hole, the colour in Isaac's face drained as soon he saw the white dress and the sky blue hair.

The Priestess of Imil said nothing and gazed down at Isaac and the others. She then made a gesture to her lackeys who immediately got to work. The one named Igor climbed down into the hole and was lowered towards the floor with a rope. The priestess oversaw the rescue mission from her position, and her cold eyes didn't leave Isaac's dismayed face.

* * *

**_Author's notes: _**

Hsu (named Xu here) didn't get trapped in Alpine Crossing, since he'd freeze to death before our heroes get through the mine.

The next chapter will conclude the Xian story arc.


End file.
